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BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., hMm, Cliicaw, 


A 

LONDON ; H. J. Drank, Lovell’s Court, Paternoster Row. 

The Household Library. No. 14. Vol 4. Xov. 19 1888 “““ 

weekly, h.ntered at the I’ost uihee at (,hu-atro as f.e<.on<l class matter. 






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BIEIjFOItD, CLARKE A CO,, Publishers, 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO. 


A BLUE-GRASS THOROUGHBRED. 










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CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO 
Publishers 


London, HENRY J. DRANE, Lovell’s Court, Paternoster Row 


COPYRIGHT, 1889 . 

BELF'OKD, CLARKE & COMPANY. 


M 


A BLUE-GRASS THOROUGHBRED. 


CHAPTER I. 

“ I SAY, Wick, don’t you want to join us ? ” 

“ No, thank you. Have another engagement.” 

‘‘ Yes, and if things continue in the red-hot fashion 
of the last few days, you will have still another 
engagement,” laughed the first speaker. “ You 
always are busy lately, no cards, no rides ; why, I 
verily believe that if I wanted to match my chesnut 
against your bay for a century, owners to ride, you 
would plead ‘ another engagement ’ and steal off to 
Lovers Leap with a certain banjo, to practice whis- 
tling duets ; the owner of said banjo being of course 
a minor consideration. 

“ A little show of the needful might get an answer 
slightly differing from that, ’’said the person addressed 
as Wick, his steel gray eyes lighting up a little 
under the friendly chaff. 

“1 reckon,” laconically answered the first, betray- 
ing his Southern origin by that one phrase, “ I don’t 
care to match my roadster against the best steeple- 


6 A Blue- G-rass TJioroughhred. 

chase horse and rider in Kentucky. Not for a very 
large amount.” 

“ Well, don’t chaff ! you know that to j^ropose a 
horse-race to me is like shaking a red rag at an angry 
bull. Besides, everybody is waiting for you, so go 
on.” 

“ And you want the room all to yourself, so you 
can moon around and make sonnets to your ‘ mistress’s 

eyebrow,’ eh? Well, of all the spooney men ” 

The sentence was never finished owing to the sudden 
exit of the speaker, followed by a varied assortment 
of riding-boots, boot-jacks and tennis rackets, which 
the nervous arm of the Kentucky athlete had sent in 
rapid succession, and under which bombardment the 
enemy had been compelled to retreat. 

Left alone, Wickliff Breckenridge, if he did not 
exactly make sonnets, did proceed to light with great 
deliberation, a huge meerschaum pipe and stretch 
himself at full length upon one of the two narrow 
beds that went very far toward constituting the furni- 
ture of the room. He was built on a generous scale 
and the narrow high-backed chairs afforded little 
comfort for his large frame. Born and reared in the 
“ Blue Grass ” regions of Kentucky, the lime-stone 
water and southdown mutton had materially assisted 
in developing his frame, until he was a specimen of 
physical manhood worth looking at. A trifle over six 
feet in height, his constant out-door life had hardened 
his muscles, embrowned his skin and kept down his 
inherited tendency to flesh, until he was in a condi- 
tion to walk all day across thickets for birds, back a 
good “ weight carrier ” for a deer hunt through the 


A Blue- Crr ass Thoroughbred. 


7 


mountains, or win the hearts of half the girls at the 
springs, as opportunity offered. 

It was the latter feat that he was now contemplat- 
ing; that is, not exactly winning the hearts of half 
the girls, but of one whose heart was to him more 
worthy of being won than all the other feminine 
auricles at White Sulphur put together. 

He had stopped over at the latter place more to 
see his friend Ransom Randolph,— or “ Ranse,” as 
everybody called him — than with any idea of en- 
joying the Springs. But he had found mettle suffi- 
ciently attractive to keep him longer ; and now, after 
two weeks, he was beginning to ask himself some 
serious questions. 

He had had many affairs in his life, for he was then 
at that point which is variously described as “ the old 
age of youth ” and “ the^outh of old age,” but in his 
case was most appropriately his prime. He was in 
Ins fortieth year, but his brown hair and his full long 
mustache were untinged with any suspicion of white. 
Life in the open air had put a bronze on his cheek, 
but there were no wrinkles upon his broad white 
forehead or about his eyes, and above all, his heart was 
as young as the veriest boy’s. His laugh was still the 
merriest and rang out with as unconstrained a sound 
as at twenty. But now, for the first time, he was 
seriously considering whether he was not fatally 
wounded by Cupid’s arrow and most unusual thoughts 
were crowding in on his perturbed brain. Was he 
too old ? He had never thought of that before. 
Did she like, might she be persuaded to love him ? 
Could he win her, and if so, could she be induced 


8 A Blue^O-rass Thoroughbred. 

to come to liis Kentucky home and brighten his lonely 
bachelorhood? It never occurred to him before, but 
it was a most infernally lonesome life he was leading. 

His pipe had gone out; Ids massive jaw had 
dropped slightly, and the wide-awake blue eyes had 
a dreamy stare very foreign to them, when suddenly 
a bright flash passed over Ids face and his whole ex- 
pression and attitude indicated, if not a solution, at 
least, a definite purpose. 

“ I’ll go ask her,” he said simpl 3 \ 

Having solved the problem to that point with the 
simplicity and directness of purpose that was his chief 
characteristic, he arose, readjusted his toilet, substi- 
tuted a cigar for his neglected pipe, and swung Ids 
athletic figure out of “ Paradise Ilow ” and across 
the lawn to the main building, determined to loose no 
time in putting the momentous question. 

Seated attlie piano in the large parlor of tlie hotel, 
was an aristocratic-looking and still beautiful woman 
of some thirty-five years of age, whose slender figure 
liad reached the perfection of her womanhood. 
Standing near her and pouring forth a volume of 
melody in a rich deep contralto, was a younger and 
even more beautiful woman, about twenty-two years 
of age, with a graceful, well-developed figure, fair, 
blonde face, large thoughtful blue eyes, broad, noble 
forehead and perfectly shaped head, set on her full 
sloping shoulders with a regal poise. 

She ceased singing as the Kentuckian entered. 

“Ah, Captain Breckenridge,” exclaimed Mrs. Du- 
laay, the elder of the two women. “I know you will 
be delighted at some news I have for you. Natalie 


ji Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 9 

has Just promised to visit me in Louisville and stay 
until after the Fall races.” 

“ Good news, indeed ! I am perfectly delighted. 
W^hen does she come ? ” 

“Just as soon as she finishes her visit here. When 
do you go East ? ” 

“ I must leave to-night. I have some business that 
will not admit of delay.” 

“ To-night ! ” the words burst involuntarily from 
the lips of Natalie Pegram,her face paling perceptibly 
and her whole attitude showing an interest of 
wliich she was evidently unconscious. 

“Yes. I have already overstayed my time and 
can wait no longer.” 

. “We shall see you in Louisville?” asked Mrs. 
Dulany. 

“ Oh, yes. I never miss a Race-meeting.” 

Tacitly, unconsciously, Natalie gathered her parasol 
and hat, and stood expectant. A few words more with 
Mrs. Dulany, and Natalie and Breckenridge strolled 
towards “ Lover’s Leap.” In silence the distance 
was traversed, in silence a secluded nook was selected 
in which they ensconced themselves comfortably. 

“Where do you go?” she asked at last. 

“New York first, then Long Branch, Saratoga, et 
cetera.” 

“ I cannot see how you can have such pressing bus- 
iness at such places.” she said somewhat petulantly. 

“ My horses run there.” 

“ Your horses ?” 

“ Yes. I have a stable of thoroughbreds which are 
entered for the fixed events. Beside I expect to en- 


10 A Blue-Gfrass Thoroughbred. 

ter for some of the minor races, if I think it advisable.” 

“ And are you a horse-man ? ” she asked, in great 
surprise. 

“ If by ‘ horse-man ’ you mean one who runs horses, 
yes.” 

“But I had such a different idea. I thought — 

I have heard — that is” she stopped, very much 

confused ; which confusion was increased by the 
wide-eyed wonder in his face. 

“ The truth is, Captain Breckenridge, my father is 
a very straight-laced puritan in his views. I don’t 
believe he ever went to a horse-race in his life. I 
certainly never did. I confess my idea of horse-men 
to be vague and indistinct, but I did not think of 
them as people one ” — she hesitated and seeing his 
complete ignorance of her reasoning, finished des- 
perately “one would meet in society. I beg your 
pardon ! I did not think how it would sound,” inco- 
herently. 

But to her intense amazement, he threw back his 
head and gave free vent to the ringing, musical laugh 
for which he was famous. 

“ Excuse me,” he said at last, seeing her flushed 
face, “ but that struck me as being so funny. Why, 
Miss Natalie, my father and grandfather kept and 
ran these horses ever since blue grass has been 
known in Kentucky. My Virginian ancestors before 
them kept their racers and beyond that my cavalier 
ancestors, in “ Merrie England,” were addicted to the 
same habit until the Roundheads drove them out of 
England to the colonies. Indeed we have several 
traditions in our family which go to show that, but 


11 


A Blue- Grass Thorouglihred. 

for the speed and endurance of those same horses, 
a period would have been put to their existence and 
the family line at one and the same time. You see 
I am far from being ashamed of doing that for which 
I have so illustrious a precedent, that which I have 
been brought up to, and that which I regard as my 
natural avocation.” 

“ I am sure I beg your pardon ; I really spoke from 
ignorance.” 

“ And I beg yours for my untimely mirth, for I 
am not in a mirthful mood to-day.” 

A long silence fell between them. Natalie had 
not spent three seasons in society without learning to 
tell with an unerring instinct, which amounts to a 
sixth sense, almost, in women, when a man had de- 
termined on the eventful step. 

She knew perfectly well that the captain meant to 
propose there and then, and there was something 
about the man that daunted her. She simply dared 
not trifle with him, for she kiicAV that beneath his 
laughing, sunny bonhomie there lurked a nature 
full of such stj-ength of passion, such depth of 
feeling, such force of character that she feared to 
rouse it. 

His eyes, which were fixed on her face, glowed 
with a phosphorescent light. His face slowly paled, 
as his emotion began to master him. " He drew closer, 
almost touched her ; she half turned, her arm came 
in contact with him and sent a galvanic shock through 
both. They neither of them ever knew just how it hap- 
pened, but in a second she was clasped in his arms, 
his burning eyes almost frightened her with the in- 


12 A Blue- Grass Thoroughhred. 

tensity of their gaze, and his powerful figure trem- 
bling like an aspen with concentrated feeling. 

Overpowered, bewildered, mastered, she lay su- 
pinely in his arms, and when the white, set face drew 
nearer to hers, she offered neither resistance nor 
protest, but allowed him to cull the sweetness from 
her rich, full lips, in a dreamy haze of emotion which 
she could not analyze and did not understand. But 
she felt that she had never known what happiness 
was until that moment. 

A long blissful silence followed, too profound, too 
holy for words. 

At last his naturally deep voice, made deeper with 
tenderness, murmured a few terms of passionate en- 
dearment and she gently released herself. Seated 
on the rustic bench, to be forever after sacred to 
their eyes, she nestled contentedly in his arms. There 
their troth was plighted, there they exchanged vows ' 
of never-dying constancy and devotion, and there 
they formed their plans for the future, chief among 
which was his design to visit her father in New York 
and make a formal demand for her hand. 


A Blue-Grass Thorouglihred. 


13 


CHAPTER II. 

Nathaniel Pegram was seated in the roomy office 
of his large business house, deeply immersed in a pile 
of letters which would have daunted many a man, but 
which he attacked with the pertinacity which was his 
distinctive characteristic. 

He was a short, heavy-set man, with a shock of 
iron-gray hair that stood out in every direction, like 
iron filings on a magnet. His broad shoulders and 
stocky-built frame seemed capable of defying alike 
the ravages of time and the wear and tear of work. 
His face was but a supplement of his figure. His 
square jaws showed Ids indomitable will. His pent- 
house forehead and shaggy brows gave indication of 
uncontrolled temper, and the rather deficient cranial 
development evinced lack of ideality. 

The fact is, he was a man who owed his success 
in life, and he had been wonderfully successful, to 
his force of character rather than his intellectuality. 
His bull-dog pertinacity kept him hammering away, 
early and late, at whatever object he had in view, 
until sheer persistence often won for him what others 
failed to acquire by subtler means. All his life he 
had mastered opposition, until now, well up in the 
sixties, he had acquired the utmost impatience at the 
smallest interference. His youth, spent in his New 


14 


A Blue-Grass Thorouglthred, 


England home, under the domination of liis hard, 
puritanical father, had implanted the most rigorous 
old-timed fanaticisms in a mind never capable of 
seeing but one side of a question, and as immovable 
as it was narrow and short-sighted. 

“ A gentleman wishes to see you, sir,” said a fair- 
haired athletic young man of about twenty-three or 
four years of age. 

“ What’s his business ? ” 

“ He says his business is personal.” 

“ Some fellow with gold mine or a new patent or 
something for me to invest in. Ask him the nature 
of his business.” 

“ I did, sir, and he says its strictly personal.” 

“ W ell, I suppose the quickest way is to see him 
and get rid of him. Show him in.” 

The Kentuckian was ushered in and stood calmly 
waiting for Nathaniel Pegram to give him his atten- 
tion. 

“ Good morning, Mr. — ” consulting the card in his 
hand, “ Breckenridge. You wished to see me on 
some personal matter, I understand.” 

“Yes,” he hesitated; “the fact is, Mr. Pegram, I 
am just from White Sulphur Springs, where I had 
the pleasure of meeting your daughter.” 

“ Ah I ” The exclamation was dry and non-indica- 
tive. 

“Yes,” — a pause. “Mr. Pegram, I am a Ken- 
tucky farmer and horse-man. I have one hundred 
acres of blue grass farm and some fifty thousand dol- 
lars worth of horses. I can’t offer your daughter 
the life of luxury that others might, perhaps, but I 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


15 


can protect her from liardship. I can refer 3'ou to 
many well-known citizens of your place, who will 
satisfy you as to 1113^ character and standing.. I love 
your daughter, and after obtaining her permission, I 
am here for the purpose of formally asking your con- 
sent to our union.” 

The words came so rapidly and with such direct- 
ness and force that Nathaniel Pegram was for a mo- 
ment bewildered. 

“ Some fifty thousand dollars worth of horses ? ” 

“ About that, on a fair estimate.” 

“ Do I understand that these are race-horses, and 
that your income is derived from them? ” 

“Yes, sir ; that is my business.” 

“ And 3^011 liave come to ask my daughter’s — my 
daugliter’s hand? ” 

O 

“ Yes,” the steel blue eyes were beginning to 
lighten a little. 

“ Then you shall have my answer now and forever. 
No!” lie thundered. “No! do you hear? You, a 
gambling, liorse-racing, whisky-drinking rebel, most 
probably, to dare to come to me and ask my daughter’s 
hand in order that 3^011 may squander her money in 
your riotous debaucheiy ! No ! ” — lashing himself 
into a fury as he Avent on. “ No, a thousand times 
no ! You have 3'our answer, ^ow leave my office.” 

“ I am not read3^ to go until I haA^e had my say,” 
was the re^dy. His tone Avas very quiet, but his eyes 
gleamed ominously. 

“ What can have to say? Nothing that Avill 
change my mind, you may be sure. I never retract 
or change. Everybody knoAVS that.” 


16 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


“ 1 have not the slightest desire to change your 

mind. With a degree of frankness that does equal 
credit to your head and heart, you have expressed 
your views. I feel it incumbent on me to ventilate 

mine. I have paid you the courtesy due you as Nat- 
alie’s father. I have asked your consent, which you 
have refus.ed. I tell you now, frankly, I mean to 
marry her without, if she will consent. Oh ! I don’t 
mean to elope or do anything underhanded. I will 
come for her, claim her, yes, and take her away with 
me in the broad open light of the day, witli or with- 
out your consent.” 

“ You — you infernally impudent horse-jockey ! 
Here Frank,” he cried, ringing the bell furiously ; 
“ Frank, put that fellow out of this office ! ” 

The handsome clerk, who had announced the 
Kentuckian, flushed slightly. 

“You forget yourself, Mr. Pegram,” he said, with 
calm dignity. “ I am individual book-keeper for your 
firm and not your hired ‘ bouncer.’ ” 

“Afraid, eh? Daunted by his broad shoulders.” 

“ I am neither afraid of his broad shoulders nor 
your tongue. I don’t propose to allow myself to 
be taunted into taking up your quarrels. You are 
an older man than he, and should he offer violence 
I would protect you on that account, but if you want 
any such work done, you can do it yourself. I am 
no man’s bully.” 

“ Spoken like a man,” said the captain ; ” I have 
no idea of using any violence unless attacked, and 
just so soon as I am satisfied that no attempt will 
be made to eject me, I shall take my leave.” 


17 


A. Blue- Cfrass Tliorouglibred. 

“ Frank Manly, you are discharged from this mo- 
ment,” cried the now maddened man, who, accus- 
tomed to undisputed sway in every trifle, found 
himself bearded and baffled in the most unexpected 
and aggravating way. “ Present your account to the 
cashier, but never cross that door again.” 

The young man bowed without speaking. 

“ Come and see me to-night. I may have some- 
thing to say that will interest you,” said the captain, 
handing him his card. 

And then turning easily and calmly on his heel, 
he strode out of the room, without a glance at the 
enraged merchant. 

Captain Breckenridge and Frank Manly were 
seated in the former’s comfortable room at one of 
New York’s handsomest hotels, the captain pulling 
away at his beloved pipe, the other keeping company 
with a cigarette. 

“ Tell me something about yourself,” said the 
captain, breaking the pause. I call myself a pretty 
good judge of character, and I have taken a fancy 
to you.” 

“Well, sir, there’s not much to tell. I am alone 
in the world. My mother died when I was quite 
young, and my father some three years ago. He 
was a Wall-street broker who had some sort of in- 
fluence with Nathaniel Pegram; though how he 
obtained it I never could tell, for they were most dis- 
similar characters. However, he used it to secure 
me the position I had before he died. We were 
quite chums, my father and I, and I felt his loss very 


18 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbreds 


deeply, the more so as it left me alone in the world.” 

“ Died about three years ago — Wall-street broker? 
Why, it must have been Chester Manly.” 

“ Yes, that was his name.” 

“ Then I knew him well. He captured me during 
the war, and I shall never forget his manly treatment 
of his prisoners.” 

“That was in keeping with his character,” said 
Frank, flushing proudly. 

“Young man, do you know anything about horses ? ” 
asked the captain, abruptly. 

“Yes. father was quite an enthusiast on turf 
matters, and I inherited much of his love for such 
sports, but of course I liave had little opportunity of 
late to indulge any propensity in that line.” 

“ Well, I am getting a little tired of doing so much 
detail work, pai ticularly as I am contemplating some 
changes that will occupy much of my time. Be- 
sides, I never was much of a book-keeper, and my 
accounts need straightening, badly. How would you 
like to take a spin to Long Branch, Saratoga, etc., 
and wind up on a blue-grass farm ? ” 

“ Captain Breckenridge,” answered Frank, speak- 
ing very slowly, “ if you are influenced in making 
this offer by the feeling that you were instrumental 
in causing the loss of my former position, I beg you 
Avill not allow 3'ourself to have such an impression. 
My relations with Mr. Pegram have been strained for 
some weeks. What happened to-day was bound to 
occur shortly. There was no sympathy between us, 
and besides, he really seems to see no difference be- 
tween his clerks and his servants. Perhaps if I had 


19 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

any one to look after I might not be so independent ; 
but, situated as I am, I had long determined that the 
first time he treated me in a disrespectful manner I 
would resent it. Therefore I beg you not to feel at 
all responsible for my leaving.” 

“ I thought you took him up rather short,” said the 
Kentuckian, “ But I assure you that I have recently 
resolved to get a man to assist me in the executive 
part of my business. I liked your looks from the 
first and since I know you to be Chester Manly’s son, 
I shall not be sorry to repay to you some small part 
of my debt to him. I guess the terms won’t stand 
much in the way between us. Will you come ?” 

“ Most gladly,” answered the younger man heartily. 

“When?” 

“ When you like. I have nothing to keep me. I 
am ready now.” 

“ At once ? ” 

“ Immediatel}^ 

“All right. Here’s a long letter from my stable- 
boss whose expenses have been much heavier than I 
think they should be, but I can’t make his accounts 
out and so have rather let things drift.” 

Without a word the younger man seated himself 
and was soon so deeply engrossed that he was uncon- 
scious of the keen eyes fixed upon him with a touch 
of humor as well as satisfaction. For once Wick- 
lyff Breckenridge had found a man as prompt at 
decisions as himself. 


20 


A Blue- Grass TJwroujlibred, 


CHAPTER III. 

“ What on earth makes you so nervous, Natalie ? ” 
asked Mrs. Dulany, two days later. “You are en- 
tirely unlike yourself. You are usually the soul of 
composure.” 

“ What time does the Eastern mail arrive ? ” asked 
Natalie irrelevantly. 

“ There it is now,” replied Mrs. Dulany, starting to 
her feet and darting away, with Natalie closely fol- 
lowing. 

Natalie found two letters for her, one in the 
cramped heavy chirography of her father ; the other 
was not familiar to her, but the bold free strokes of 
the pen seemed so characteristic of her lover that she 
readily guessed it must be from him. 

The letter was a brief synopsis of the writer’s jour- 
ney to New York and a very fair account of the in- 
terview with her father, given in the terse, vigorous 
language peculiar to the captain. 

“ I suppose,” he wrote, “ I should have kept my 
temper ; but I could not and did not, and regrets are 
useless. But, Natalie, what I said to your father 
about you, I meant from the bottom of my heart. T 
am neither the adventurer he seemed to think me, 
nor a romantic school-boy, but a man a little too old 
for you perhaps, yet able to protect you from the evil 


21 


A Blue-Crrass Thoroughbred. 

haps of the world and shelter you from its storms. I 
offer you the entire devotion of my nature, and I am 
not a man to do anything by halves. I ask in return 
as entire a trust in me. I believe I can make you 
happy. I therefore ask you to keep your promise 
and come to me at once, even though by so doing 
you must literally leave all others to cleave only to 
me. Do not decide this hastih^, but ask your own 
heart if you can trust yourself entirely to 

“ Yours now and always, 

“ Wick.” 

The other letter was a brief characteristic epistle. 
It read: 

“Dear Natalie, — 

“ A wild horse-jockey from somewhere in the 
South, has been here asking me for your hand. He 
got some plain talk instead, and became insolent and 
abusive when he found I saw through his designs. 
Of course you could not be interested seriously in 
him, but if you should you may as Avell dismiss the 
thought from your head. You know why you cannot 
marry without my consent., and knowing me you must 
understand that after our interview he could never 
darken my door again. Further words are useless. 

“ Your affectionate 

“ Father.” 

The letter fell from her listless fingers. The wrinkles 
deepened in the broad white brow. Every gesture 
and attitude betokened anxious thought, gradually 


22 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


deepening into pain. The noble head sunk as under 
a heavy weight. Silent and tearless, she sat gazing 
into vacancy before her, with unseeing eyes and 
brain busy with her voiceless grief. 

How long she sat there she never knew, but the 
shadows of evening were lengthening and the golden 
sunset tinging the western sky when she painfully 
arose and went to her writing desk. Many letters 
did she commence, many destroy; until fi nally, after 
much hesitation, she concluded the following might 
do: 

“ Dear Captain Breckenridge,” it began, “ my own 
brave noble friend; you cannot imagine how dis- 
tressed I am at the turn affairs have taken. I do not 
in the least blame you ; indeed were it any other 
than my father I would glory in your manly bearing 
throughout. But, my dear friend, how can I say 
what I must ? My love, my troth are pledged to you. 
No other man can ever claim the one ; the other I 
will keep some day, but not now, nor can I say when. 
Oh, my darling ! have faith in me. Believe in my 
assurance that what you ask cannot now be, though 
if you will wait for me, I promise, oh ! so gladly, 
that I will some day do all in my power to reward 
your confidence. I can say no more, for my head 
and heart seem numb with this great trouble. • Good- 
bye and believe that I shall never be any other than 
“ Your own. 


“ Natalie.-’ 


j 4. Blue- Grvass ThorougHibred, 


23 


CHAPTER IV. 

Some six weeks have elapsed and the scene changes 
to the grounds of the Louisville Jockey Club. It is 
the first day of the Fall meeting. The season is 
pretty well on to a close ; horse-men from all parts 
of the country have flocked to this, one of their last 
opportunities to increase their winnings, or “ catch 
even ” on their losings. The capacious stables are 
crowded with the finest horses the world contains. 
Over in the paddock the knowing ones are gathered, 
anxiously scanning tlie contesting thoroughbreds, or 
discussing their prospects. Here and there stern, 
hard-featured, weather-beaten trainers are giving 
instructions, to the little monkey-like jockeys, whilst 
gliding through the crowd, with ears ever alert and 
downcast, equivocal smiles, the “touts,” the jackals 
of the turf, “ pick up their pointers,” or sell tlieii* 
“ tips,” to such as they can beguile into purchasing. 

Over beyond the track is the Grand Stand, crowded 
to its utmost capacity with the most beautiful women 
in the world — at least every Kentuckian religiously 
believes as much — in their holiday attire, gay with 
brilliant parasols and flying ribbons. The “gentlemen 
sports,” “dudes” “plungers,” or whatever name you 
may choose to designate them by, dressed in immacu- 
late, if somewhat pronounced, attire, lounge easily from 
the side of some beauty with whom they have wagered 


24 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


bonbons against gloves, and make their way dexter- 
oasiy through the surging throng below, where they 
risk sums that would turn many feminine cheek 
white if they but knew. 

One of those indescribable, but simultaneous, move- 
ments of the crowd in the Grand Stand, which is 
termed “sensation,” for want of a better name, oc- 
curs. From every lip comes the exclamation, “ The 
coaching party !” Everybody seeming anxious to tell 
what everybody already knows, as, swinging around 
through the gate, with blowing of horns and flying 
of ribbons, three coaches come in on a full gallop. 
The band strikes up an inspiring air, the party 
descends ; the members make their way to the 
places reserved for them, the sensation subsides, and 
the chatter from thousands of feminine voices again 
fills the air. The Fall meeting seems about inaugu- 
rated. 

“ Mars’ Wick ! Oh, Mars’ Wick ! ” 

Captain Breckenridge stopped as he was making 
his way across the track to the “ infield.” 

“ Hello ! What’s up, Zeke ? ” 

“ What’s up ? heaps up, dat’s what dey is ! heaps 
up, I tell you ! ya-as sah,” and the intelligent black 
face and woolly head were w^agging in a most portent- 
ously solemn way. 

Accustomed to blacks all his life, tlie captain 
knew at once that Zeke had something of more than 
usual import to tell him. 

“ Come over here out of the crowd and tell me 
what you have to say, and tell me quick, for I have 
much to do.” 


25 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

“ You’]l have heaps more to do after I tell you.” 

“ What do you nieau ?” 

“ Well, sail, me’n’ Yaller Joe was playin’ ‘ creps ’ 
down behin’ de stables when we hear feetsteps. We 
kind o’ lay low, ’cos we’s feared it was cops. Bye- 
’m-bye long comes jockey Gibson ’n dat red-headed, 
chicken-fighter what’s always hanging around ‘ tout- 
ing ’ and foolin.’ ” 

“ Gibson, who rides Aramis ? ” 

“Ya-as, sah! Well, sah, dey done fixed up a plan 
for to th’ow dat race.” 

“ What ! ” gasped Captain Breckenridge. 

“ Deed dey did ! Gibson was to have five hundred 
in cash and five hundred in ‘ French tickets ’ on de 
‘ Ghost.’ ” 

“ You are sure there can be no mistake? ’ 

“ Mars’ Wick, we was raised togedder ; did you 
ever think 1 was just a natural born darn fool ? ” 

The question was stronger than any assurance, and 
brought no immediate answer. 

“ Enough to do, indeed,” muttered the white man, 
thinking deeply for a moment. 

“Here, Zeke! he suddenly exclaimed, all anima- 
tion in a moment. “ Go at once for Major Howard, 
owner of Aramis, and if you see Yellow Joe, bring 
him along, and meet me in the Judges’ stand. They 
are bringing the horses upon the track already.” 

The dusky jockey started off on a quick trot, 
whilst the tall Kentuckian strode straight into the 
Judges’ stand, where his story created a profound 
sensation. 

He had scarcely finished it ivhen Zeke, Yellow Joe 


26 A Blue- O-r ass Thoroughbred, 

and Major Howard came up in the order named, the 
latter gentleman in a state of mind bordering on in- 
sanity. Question after question fell upon the two 
jockeys, until even the choleric Major, whose faith in 
Gibson had been boundless, was finally convinced of 
his duplicity. 

“ Zeke, have you a mount for this race ? ” asked 
the club’s president. 

“ Ya-as sail. I rides Nimble Bill, sah.” 

“ Have you, Joe ?” 

“No sah.” 

“ Go get a jacket and mount Aramis. The other 
matter can be investigated later. That is satisfac- 
tory to you. Major ? ” 

“ Perfectly, sir. For you, boys, come and see me 
after the race and I will reward you handsomely. 
Captain Breckenridge, it is useless for me to attempt 
to express my obligation. To most men the fact of 
your having a horse entered in a race and discovering 
the favorite was to be pulled, might have made a dif- 
ference. To you, of course, it made none, but I can- 
not refrain from wishing there were more men of 
your stripe on the turf.” 

And the weather-beaten old turf-man departed 
with a bow of so much dignity that every man in the 
stand instinctively raised his hat in response. 

“I say, Wick, who is going to win this? ” asked 
Randolph, a moment later. 

“ Nimble Bill,” sententiously. 

“ Stop your chaff. Everybody knows it’s between 
Aramis and the Ghost. But which is the better?” 

“Well, they’ve changed Aramis’ jockey.” 


A Blue-Gfrass Thoroughbred. 27 

“ The devil, they have! Well, that settles it for 
me,” and off he went to make his wagers. 

Breckenridge looked after him with a quiet shrug 
of his broad shoulders and made his way leisurely to 
the Grand Stand, where he was soon shaking hands 
right and left, for he was an universal favorite. 

Natalie was there, the troubled look that her face 
had worn for the past six weeks, banished tempora- 
rily by the excitement of her first horse-race. Her 
eyes grew brighter and softer, as her lover made his 
way to her side. The warm pressure of their hands 
was the only evidence they gave of any understand- 
ing between them ; but that was firm, clinging, re- 
assuring. ^ 

“ They are ready for the start I ” panted Randolph, 
as, out of breath from the exertions he had made to 
secure his pool-tickets, he clambered up beside them. 

“ I say, Wick,” he whispered, “ I thought it just 
possible you might not have been chaffing and I got 
a saver on Nimble Bill.” 

Breckenridge nodded, but he was too engrossed in 
the horses to speak. 

Several false starts were made. Just as patience 
was wearing out arose the indescribable murmur 
which is heard when twenty thousand people tell 
each other simultaneously — “ They’re off ! ” 

The distance was one mile and a quarter. J ust be- 
fore starting Major Howard had given Yellow Joe his 
instructions. 

“ Watch the Ghost I ” he said, pay no attention to 
any other horse in the race. Keep half a length be- 
hind him, no matter how he goes, and beat him home 


28 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


on the quarter stretch. Never mind the other horses ; 
beat the Ghost and you win the race.” 

“ Run him from eend to eend, as usual,” said the 
venerable owner of the Ghost. “ Git agoin’ ’s soon’s 
you kin and never stop till you git thar.” 

With such instructions for the two favorites, it bid 
fair to be a “ cracking race ” — and it was. 

Down the first quarter they came, well bunched, 
at first; but the Ghost was already forging ahead. 
Yellow Joe half a length behind on Aramis, Nimble 
Bill well in the rear. Around to the first quarter- 
pole and on to the lialf-mile pole there Avere but few 
changes. The pace was terrific. The two leaders 
had let a wide space of daylight between them and 
the bunch, of which Zeke on Nimble Bill, liolding 
him well in hand, now began to take the lead. Nimble 
Bill had been running easily, under a pull, until the 
three-quarter pole Avas reached ; then Zeke loosened 
his rein and felt his horse, who responded gallantly. 

But it was not until they SAVung into the quarter- 
stretch that the riding began. YelloAV Joe, riding to 
instructions, shook his rein and began to ride for all 
his horse was worth. The Ghost, harassed by the 
steady manner in Avhich Aramis had stuck to him, 
showed signs of temper and of distress. His jockey 
began playing Avith whip and spur as did Joe. The 
crowd began first to mutter and then to shout: 
“ The Ghost has it ! ” “No, Aramis ! ” “ Aramis is 
ahead ! ” “ The Ghost ! ” “ Anybody’s race ! ” 

Just then a poAv^erful A^oice thunders, “Nimble 
Bill! look at Nimble Bill!” and a dark-chestnut 
horse, hitherto unnoticed, came along Avith a burst of 


j4. Blue- Grass ThorougJihred, 29 

speed rarely equalled on any track. Zeke, riding 
almost on his neck, “ rolling ” him, spurring, whip- 
ping, driving him to the top of his speed, getting out 
of him every ounce of muscle and all of his reserve 
force, seemed to be lifting him from the ground. 

Nobly was he responding, and before the now 
maddened crowd could realize it. Nimble Bill, an al- 
most unknown horse, had beaten the two crack 
horses of the season by a head ; had won everlasting 
fame for himself and some twenty thousand dollars, 
for his owner. 

The scene that ensued is beyond description. 
Betters on “ short ” horses are always more demon- 
strative than backers of the favorite, and this time 
they went fairly mad. Hats, canes, umbrellas were 
flung in the air; men shouted, yelled, danced, and in 
many instances, hugged each other, while the philo- 
sophical book-makers calmly handed out cash to the 
winners and tooked bets for future events, without 
change of countenance. 

On the Grand Stand our hero had remained like a 
statue carved in marble, his left hand holding his field- 
glass to his eyes, his right resting on Randolph’s 
shoulder. Tlie next morning the latter found four 
distinct bruises on his shoulder, where the hand had 
rested. 

Natalie felt for a moment as if she must faint. 
Unused to such sport in any shape, the additional in- 
terest of seeing her lover win such a race, almost 
proved too much for her. Her cheeks and lips paled, 
and but for a reassuring pressure of the hand from 
the captain, she would surely have betrayed herself. 


30 


A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 


She mastered her emotion, however, by a great effort, 
and sat unnoticed in the general excitement until 
her color returned. 

Congratulations were showered on the stalwart 
Kentuckian and received by him with a polite non- 
chalance that would have been perfect had not the 
steel-gray eyes been fairly ablaze. 

“Why did you not tell a fellow?” asked Ran- 
dolph. 

• “I did.” 

“ When?” 

“Not twenty minutes ago. You asked me who 
would win and I told you.” 

“ Yes, but who would have believed it ? ” 

“ Now, Ranse, if 3^0 u expected me to persuade you 
to bet on a horse that only two people in the world 
really thought would win, j^ou don’t know me. Be- 
sides 3^ou are like nine betters out of ten. You hear 
one fact, consider it a tip, and rush off to get in 
your bet before anybody else finds it out. In the 
first place Aramis beat the Ghost anyway, even with 
a strange jockey ; then along comes another horse 
that you never asked your best friend, his owner, 
about. You are too rash for a better, you plunger! ” 

“ Oh, go ahead, Mr. Knowall I Because your horse 
can run fast you know all about horses, betting, and 
philosophy generally.” 

“Well, the ladies will excuse us. Come on and 
let us go and tell Zeke that he is the greatest jockey 
living. He deserves all praise for the finest piece of 
riding I ever saw.” 

A few minutes later they were in the infield. 


31 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

‘‘Well, Zeke, I am delighted with you. Your rid- 
ing certainly proves you are not a natural born fool, 
anyway.” 

“ Ya-as sah, I sulitinly did git all the go out er 
Bill they wus in him. But if dem two bosses hadn’t 
run each other to def, I dont b’lieve I’d ever come in 
ahead. Dey jist wanted to kill each other an’ didn’t 
pay no ’tention to me.” 

Zeke’s black intelligent face glowed with the praises 
of his master and his consciousness of their being 
deserved. 

“ What dey gwine to do wid Gibson?” he asked 
anxiously. 

“ Oh, his master discharged him and the judges 
have ruled him off the track.” 

“ He’s a mighty bad man. Mars’ Wick an’ you’d 
better look out for ’ira. He ’most killed er man in 
Lexington for heap less’ii you’ve done to him.” 

“ What did you do, Wick ? ” asked Randolph. 

The details of Zeke’s discovery were told him. 

“ Why, Zeke, you are a most intelligent colored 
person ! ” 

“ I’se a right smart nigger! ” with marked empha- 
sis on the last word. 

“ Zeke don’t like to be called colored,” laughed the 
captain. 

“Why not?” 

“ Let him tell you for himself. Why is it, Zeke ? ” 

The jockey cfrew himself up with a great deal of 
native dignity. 

“ Well, sah,” lie said, addressing himself to Ran- 
dolph, “ its jest dis way. The good Lord done gim 


32 


A Blue-Grass Thorouyhhred, 


me a black skin. Callin’ it colored don’t make it any 
lighter. ’ Sides, what I wanter make it any lighter 
for ? Ef de Lord make my skin black, He wanted 
it black. He didn’t make my heart black. An’ I’ll 
tell you what, sah, it seems to me de best way to keep 
from bein’ ’shamed of bein’ called ‘ nigger ’ is to act 
so’t people will think nigger is praise. Ef de black 
people would start out to make folks feel like dat, 
’stead goin’ round callin’ each other colored, dey’d 
be heap more respected. I ain’t “colored pusson’. 
Jockey Gibson he’s ‘ colored pusson.’ I’s nigger.” 

“ Well, by George ! Zeke, whether you are right 
or wrong, you think like a philosopher, and what is 
better, like a man. I want to shake hands with you 
on the manliest speech I have heard in many a day. 

“ Tliankee, sah. Much ’bleeged for sayin’ so.” 
And the black face gleamed again. 

“ Where’s Frank ? ” 

“ I dunno, sah. Last I seed he was over to the 
stables looking at Yaller Jack fixing up for tlie 
steeple-chase to-morrow.” 

“ Reckon I’ll go over and take a look myself. 
Want to go along, Ranse? ’* 

“ No, I think I’ll go back to the ladies.” 

“ All right ! I’ll join you in half an hour.” And 
with a stride rendered considerably more elastic by 
the result of his big coup^ he made his way back 
amongst the stables to his own horses. 

Gradually his step slackened ; his* hands in his 
pockets, his eyes downcast, he lost himself in thought. 
Just as Frank Manly emerged from one of the stable 
doors, carrying a heavy field-glass in his hand, a dark 


A Blue~Grass Thoroughbred, 3S 

form, bearing something that glittered in its right 
hand, came suddenly from behind another and rushed 
upon the unwary captain some thirty yards away. 
But before the gleaming murderous blade had time 
to descend, the field-glasses, propelled by the dexter- 
ous arm of the young New Yorker, were shattered 
in a hundred pieces on the head of the would-be 
assassin, who fell to the earth stunned and bleeding. 

One glance told the Kentuckian the truth. He 
sprang on the prostrate ruffian, disarmed and bound 
him without waiting for further explanation. 

“ Gibson, the jockey ! ” he cried. 

“ Yes, pretty near Gibson the murderer,” said 
Frank dryly. 

Well, Frank, you certainly saved my life. At the 
expense of your best field-glasses too,” he added 
more lightly. “ But how in the world could you 
have hit that fellow as you did? I never saw a 
quicker or straighter throw in my life ! ” 

‘‘ Oh, I am a base-ball player,” was the quiet reply. 

a 


u 


A Mue-G^rass Thoroughbred* 


CHAPTER Y. 

The largest and most successful Fall meeting of the 
Louisville Jockey Club was in full: blast. Every day 
coaching parties supplemented by “ drags ” and every 
style of vehicle, filled with the beauty and fashion of 
Louisville, were formed. After the races they ad- 
journed to the Club-house and champagne. At night 
they went to the theatre, where a clever Opera 
Boiiffe company was holding the boards, and finished 
with a supper at the Pendennis Club. It was one 
continuous round of dissipation. 

“ Flank,” said the captain one morning as they sat 
smoking alone in the reading-room of the Pendennis, 
“ I want to say something to you, and I want you to 
take it right.” 

“ Very well. I know you could only mean to do 
me a kindness. Besides I am not thin-skinned.” 

“ Well, you don’t understand our Kentucky girls. 
They are a noble set of women at bottom, but our 
customs sanction a great deal more coquetry than 
you will find in the East. Their freedom from the 
chaperone system teaches them to take care of them- 
selves and the independence thus learned makes 
them more daring. Understand me, I don’t mean 
they are fast. Indeed in my knocking around various 
sections of the country, I find rather less fastness in 


A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred- 


35 


Kentucky than elsewhere. But they will and do flirt 
and some of them don’t mean everything they say. 
Be on your guard, Frank, for you stand now, as far 
as my observation goes, in a fair way to be flung by 
as skittish a filly as Kentucky can produce.” 

“Thank you. Captain Breckenridge, I don’t fear 
such a catastrophe.” 

“ There, I feared I should offend. But what I said 
was meant in kindness.” 

“ Of course it was. I spoke churlishly, but be- 
lieve me, I am not insensible to your many kindly 
actions.” 

“ That’s more like yourself. I am a lonesome sort 
of a fellow and have taken a great liking to you. 
Strange,” he muttered, as he lounged into the card 
room, “ strange how a man with solid horse-sense 
on all other subjects should allow himself to be 
hooked, played with, landed, and finally left high and 
dry by a little chit scarce out of short skirts. Well, 
it’s a lesson all must learn sooner or later. Only one 
never learns after all, for I am a bigger fool at forty 
than I ever was before. I have fancied myself in 
love twenty times, but tins — Heigho ! ‘there’s no 
fool like an old fool ! ” ’ And heaving this relic of 
past wisdom from the bottom of his heart and accom- 
panying it with a sigh so portentous as to almost 
make the windows rattle, coming as it did from the 
bottom of his capacious chest, he lighted a fresh cigar, 
stepped out of the door, where his dog-cart waited 
him, and drove straight to the abode of liis own 
enslaver. 

Randolph was there before him, looking strangely 


36 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


flushed, as the servant ushered him in; somewhat un- 
ceremoniously. Mrs. Dulaiiy was with him, a trifle 
pale, but perfectly self-possessed and cordial. 

“ Natalie will be down in a moment, captain, are 
we late ? ” 

“ No, just in good time. The first race is a colt 
race and uninteresting anyway.” 

The answer was as conventional as the question, 
but the keen gray eyes were filled with a new and 
curious light. 

Just then Natalie entered, a dream of white enlivened 
with delicate heliotrope ribbons, a broad hat trimmed 
with the same color shading her glorious face, which 
lightened so perceptibly, as she greeted our hero, as 
to cause two of the party to smile quietly, and the 
third to feel a warm triumphant thrill pass over 
him like a wave of heavenly melody. 

“ Why are you so silent?” asked Natalie, as they 
drove along. 

“ Because I never get to see you alone, because 
there is much I have to say to you, and most of all, 
because there is much I want you to say to me.” 

“ There is little I can say to you — Wick.” His 
first name came with timid hesitation from her agi- 
tated lips, and he forgot, for the moment, his previous 
discontent, and became almost intoxicated with the 
flood of tenderness that swept over him. 

“You darling!” he muttered between his set 
teeth, with a depth of feeling that made her start 
and tremble wkh indefinable emotion. 

“ Look out I ” 

The exclamation came from a passing vehicle, so 


37 


i 

i A J^lue-Crrass Thoroughbred, 

|| nearly colliding that it took all the captain’s skill in 
j horsemanship, yes, and all the strength of his wrists, 
j' to avoid the accident. 

“ Isee I can’t talk with you here. When can I see 
Ij you?” 

j “You go to the dinner to-night?” 

“Yes, but I want you all to myself. We cannot 
I talk freely there.” 

“Very well, come to-morrow at half-past ten, if 
you can arise that early, and we can have a couple of 
hours at any rate. ” o 

“ Will not that be too early for the household you 
are visiting ? ” 

“ No, indeed. Mr. Randolph came this morning 
elirlier than that. ” 

Again that queer look came in his face, “ All right. 
It’s not too early for me. ” 

By this time they had reached the track, and dis- 
mounting, joined the coaching party. Conspicuous 
among these was Frank, his close-cut fair hair clus- 
tering about his open, strong face. He was bending 
over a bright brunette, whose clear olive complexion 
and luminous brown eyes formed a striking contrast 
with him. They were undoubtedly flirting desperatel3^ 
Her eyes met his with a half-alluring, half-mocking 
look that was tantalizing him to the point of madness. 
Just then it suited her to assume a dejected appear- 
ance. 

“ Why so triste^ ” he asked, solicitously. 

“ Oh, nothing ! Probably the watermelon I had for 
lunch was not quite up to the standard,” she answered. 


B8 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

the troubled expression deepening on her piquante 
face. 

“ How absurd you can be ! ” he said, almost 
impatiently. “ What makes you so thoughtful ? ” 

“ Ah, Mr. Manly,' because I am a young girl does 
not prevent my having serious thoughts. I wonder if 
you would understand my crotchets ? ” 

“ You might try me. I am not always obtuse.’* 

“ Well, then,” she answered slowly, holding up a 
magnificent Jacqueminot rose that had formed a con- 
spicuous ornament to her attire, “ one of them is, I will 
never give this kind of rose to a man, until I can 
find one — one whom I could like better than myself.” 

The arrival of our hero and his party prevented 
Frank’s answering. The conversation became general, 
and all attempts to sub-divide were just then useless. 
Some twenty minutes passed so, Frank and Heloise 
Churchill remaining in their original positions, but 
separated now by a chattering crowd passing the 
morning compliments preparatory to settling down. 

Suddenly and quietly, Frank extended his hand 
and it required a keen ear to detect the eager ring 
in his carefully guarded voice. 

Won’t you give me that flower. Miss Churchill ? ” 
The little hand went suddenly towards the throat, 
where the flower had been re-pinned, fell again; then, 
with an impetuous, almost passionate gesture the 
rose was placed in his hand and the dark glowing 
eyes averted. The contact of hand and flower acted 
like an electric shock upon the young New Yorker. 
His face paled and he almost reeled ; then followed a 
wave of blood, dyeing his forehead and neck, as his 


39 


A Blue-Crrdss Thoroughbred, 

Senses swam in an unknown sea of high hopes and 
intoxicating anticipations. 

This by-play was unnoticed by all save one pair of 
keen eyes, now glittering with a sardonic humor. 

“ Poor Frank ! ” he muttered, ‘‘ he has had his warn- 
ing and won’t profit by it. He has laid the train for 
an explosion that will send him higher than Gilderoy’s 
Kite. But that girl had better be a little careful too, 
for Frank is not a man to be fooled long. I have done 
my best ; now let us see what the result is to be.” 

“I say. Cap, I dropped in to see you this morning 
and missed you,” said a florid handsome man of 
about forty years of age, rather too youthfully dressed, 
but still dutingue in appearance. 

“Yes? I am sorry I missed 3^ou Dulany. I Avas 
at the Court testifying against F'rank’s friend.” 

“ Who, Gibson ? 

“ Yes.” 

“ Oh ! do tell us what they did with that horrid 
fellow,” cried Heloise Churchill, “ I take the greatest 
interest in the case ; Mr. Manly was so brave and 
noble, ” and her glorious eyes turned on the young 
man a look which sent another electric thrill through 
him. 

“ Indeed he was,” said the captain, warmly. “ Well, 
the charge this morning was disorderly conduct and 
he got ten days imprisonment. Something was said 
about indicting him for assault with intent to kill, 
carrying deadly weapons and the like ; but that 
would have necessitated my staying over to testify 
against him and he is not worth it. By the way, 
Frank, speaking of deadly weapons, as you are 


40 A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 

deprived of your armature since the last engagement, 
1 thought I would replenish your arsenal.” 

So saying, he unslimg from his shoulder and 
handed to Frank an innocent-looking case that, on 
being opened, proved to be a pair of mother-of-pearl 
glasses, on the gold mounting of wliich was engraved 
Frank’s full name, the date of the encounter, and the 
motto, “ True courage is best shown by quick thought 
and prompt action.” 

“ Oh, my ! isn’t that gorgeous ? ” exclaimed Heloise, 
and the present was passed from hand to hand. 

The truth was, that though Frank had passed the 
matter over lightly, and even the captain had con- 
tented himself with one or two expressions of the 
heartiest commendation, the women were not disposed 
to let such an adventure be so slighted. They had 
a real live hero among them, and they proceeded to 
make much of him in a way that would have turned 
a less evenly balanced brain. It was this universal 
admiration that had determined Heloise Churchill to 
win him for herself. 

“ Shall I come early to-morrow ? ” asked Randolph, 
under his breath, of Mrs. Dulany. 

“ Natalie expects the captain to-morrow. I fear 
we would be de trop.'^ 

The white, aristocratic face gave no evidence of 
any emotion, and the soft trainante voice was un- 
shaken. 

Something very like an oath struggled to his lips, 
but was smothered beiieatli his heavy mustache. 
Controlling himself, he asked, in as matter-of-course 
a tone as he could master : 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 41 

“When shall I have an opportunity to see you 
alone ? ” 

“Oh, Mr. Randolph, have you heard of the Cave 
party?” asked Mrs. Dulany, entirely ignoring his 
question. 

“ No ! Who, what, and when ? ” 

“ Mr. Dulany is organizing it ; Natalie, Heloise 
Churchill, Captain Breckenridge, Mr. Manly and a 
lot of others are the ‘ who ; ’ a two-days’ trip to the 
Mammoth Cave is the ‘ what,’ and next Sunday morn- 
ing is the ‘ when.’ ” 

“ Are you going ? ” 

“ No ; Mrs. Mayhew chaperons the party.” 

There was the faintest tin^e of sarcasm in the 

O 

voice, though the manner was free from embarrass- 
ment. 

“ Well, then, I can ” a look from her stopped 

him, and he said no more ; but his face was cleared 
of its clouds, and he hummed lightly one of Wald- 
teufel’s newest waltzes under his breath. 

“ You will go with us to the Cave? ” Heloise was 
asking Frank. 

“Nothing could induce me to miss it. I have 
never been and know nothing of the convenances ;h\xt 
if it be the correct thing to volunteer my services as 
escort, please consider it done after the most approved 
style.” 

“ Indeed there is just such a thing, as you will find 
to your sorrow. Acting as escort means helping one 
over all sorts of slippery and steep places. Your 
brawny right arm — that’s the correct phrase, is it 
not ? — will find much better employment than throw- 


42 A Blue-G-rass ’thoroughbred. 

ing missiles at other people’s heads, though not so re- 
munerative, judging from the prize you liave just 
won.” 

“ There is another prize my brawny right arm 
would wear itself out to win, far more valuable than 
any field glass.” 

“ Yes ! But could you see through it as well? ” 
and the mock-innocent look made the piquante face 
simply fascinating. 

Frank groaned, for he knew the look. 

Heloise Churchill was no fool in any sense. Fond 
of admiration and of flirting, she had naturally a 
bright mind, and few could cope with her in her 
favorite style of badinage. She had some sterling 
qualities, too, but the universal success her beauty 
and repartee had won for her was bidding fair to 
cause them to be snowed under by more superficial 
thoughts and emotions. In other words, she was 
being “ spoiled ” by adulation. 

‘‘ Ten o’clock will not be too early for you ? ” 
asked the captain of Natalie. 

“No, but not before. Housekeepers must have 
some consideration shown them.” 

And so, despite the fact that the conversation had 
been general all the afternoon, much had been said 
in few sentences. 

Just then the last race of the day was finished, and 
headed by the portly president and his charming 
wife, the entire party made their way to the Club- 
house, there to await the passing of the crowd and 
to refresh nature with a sandwich and a glass of 
champagne. 


A Blue-Grass 'I'horoughhred, 4S 

Peyton Dulany had come with the rest, paying 
the most assiduous attention to the little blonde, Mrs. 
Mayhe\v. Fifteen years before he had married an 
heiress solely for her money, although she had much 
more to attract. Then a singularly handsome man, 
he had completely infatuated her, so much so that 
she quarreled with her mother and the friends who 
ventured to warn her of his true character. He was 
well enough in his way, but his intense vanity was 
the cause of subsequent unhappiness. She was suffi- 
ciently in love with him to have overlooked many 
faults, but he, not content with ordinary demon- 
stration, took delight in deliberately exciting her 
jealousy, so that all the world might see how much 
she loved him. No love could stand such a test long, 
and after years of silent suffering, she had grown to 
thoroughly despise him. He still attributed her 
aversion to outbreaks of jealousy, and attempted to 
bring her to terms by still more open flirtations. 

Just now Mrs. Mayhew was his fancy, a feeling the 
white-headed, albino-looking little woman was warmly 
encouraging, if not reciprocating, and they were ap- 
proaching very close to the boundary line of dis- 
cretion. 

The band that had been playing all day before the 
grand stand, came over to the Club-house. The 
crowd had all dispersed, save the occupants of the 
Club-house, and as the inspiring strains of one of 
Offenbach’s melodies floated on the air, a quadrille 
on the green was suggested and eagerly adopted ; and 
soon twinkling feet were flying over the blue grass 
with an abandon only to be found amongst Southern 


44 A Blue-G-rasB Thoroughbred, 

girls, secure from fear of being misunderstood. 

“ Did you ever see a handsomer picture than that? ” 
asked Margie Dulany, as she and Randolph sat on 
the broad piazza of the Glub-house and watched the 
dancers. She pointed as she spoke to the captain 
and Natalie. 

And indeed it was a picture worth remembering. 
He had thrown aside his hat. His wavy brown hair, 
as yet un tinged with gray, fell negligently off Ins 
massive forehead ; his brown handsome face, set off 
by the flowing mustache, seemed fairly to glow with 
perfect health ; his athletic figure showing to its best 
advantage in his neglige racing costume, and his 
gray eyes shining with a soft light, as he leaned witli 
unconscious grace against a small tree and looked at 
the noble girl beside him. 

She too, was animated. Her lissome figure seemed 
charged with nervous energy; her large blue eyes 
glowed with a brighter lustre, and the noble poise of 
her head seemed more queenly. Around them both, 
forming a natural frame, fell the overhanging 
branches of the tree. 

“The handsomest couple I ever saw,’’ replied Ran- 
dolph. “But the music has commenced again, and 
this time a waltz. Surely you will let me have one 
turn with you?” 

“ Out on the grass ? Oh, no ! ” 

“ W ell, the piazza is broad enough, just one 
turn ! ” 

She looked around; every one was enjoying the 
spirit of the occasion. Over in a remote part of the 
yard her husband and Mrs. Mayhew were drinking 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


45 


champagne and laughing — the explosive laughter 
that follows the double entendre. 

For answer she put her hand on his shoulder, he 
passed his arm around her, and they glided off to- 
gether in perfect step and time. Twilight was just 
falling and objects becoming a little indistinct, seemed 
to separate them, first from their companions, then 
from the entire world. The band was playing Moji 
Reve and soon it seemed to them that there was 
nothing in existence but that air and themselves. 
He guided her gently around a corner to an obscure 
part of the piazza. The band had now reached the 
second theme of the air, and as the corfiet took the 
long wailing tenor note, their lips met, as with one 
impulse, and their souls seem to float out into illimit- 
able space upon that strange wistful melody. Not 
a word was spoken, not a step missed, and as their 
lips separated from that wild kiss, they swung back 
into observable space. 

It all occupied less than ten minutes, and yet the 
emotion of ages seemed to have been crowded in that 
timco 


46 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER VI. 

The next morning Breckenridge was punctual to 
the hour in calling at the Dulany residence. He 
did not have long to wait Before Natalie entered, 
attired for the races. 

“ I though I would do all my dressing before you 
came,” she explained, “ so as to give you as much of 
my time as possible. 

What answer could an enraptured lover make to 
so considerate a speech but to wind his stalwart arms 
about her, drew her yielding form to his breast and 
imprint one long burning lingering kiss, in which all 
the impatience of his waiting, all the passion of his 
nature, all the supreme content of the moment seemed 
to express themselves upon her warm responsive lips. 

For several moments he held her thus. Neither of 
them knew how long, for at such a crisis all con- 
ception of time is lost ; but he finally released her 
and leading her to a divan, seated himself beside her 
and holding her in a half embrace, his left arm en- 
circling her slioulders, her head, nestling on his bosom, 
his right hand clasping both hers, they remained for 
a long while in happy silence. 

At last he ventured upon the subject so near to 
his heart. 


47 


A Blue-G-rass Thorov^hhred, 

“Natalie I do not wish to cause you needless pain, 
but tell me what you can, sweet heart, of the reasons 
which deprive me of the supremest happiness earth 
affords.” 

The happy light died out of her eyes, her face as- 
sumed an expression of keenest pain. 

“ Oh, Wick ! I cannot tell you anything. Believe 
me, my darling, I love you and if you will wait for 
me, I will come to you some day. You have the 
one great love of my life, but I cannot tell you more, 
dear.” 

“ Why not? Can’t you trust me ? ” 

“I am willing, nay, anxious, to trust you with my 
life’s happiness, dear; more than that I could not do. 
The secret is not all mine, and I could not tell you 
on that account. And I would rather die than have 
you know it. I am not to blame ! There is not one 
single action or thought of my life that I could not 
lay bare before you, but I cannot marry without my 
father’s consent.” 

“ You would not let property considerations — ” 

“ I would rather live with you in one of those log 
cabins I saw from the car window coming on here, 
than ill a palace without you.” 

“ It is not that your sense of duty to your father — ” 

“ No ! a thousand times, no ! No consideration of 
that sort influences me. Of course I have a 
natural feeling of duty to my parent, but in a mat- 
ter involving my life’s happiness I should not permit 
that to stand in the way. You could never guess — 
you must never try to guess my reasons. Oh, believe 
in me, trust me my darling! I cannot on more,” 


48 A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 

“ I do believe, I do trust you, my own, my 
sweet ! Though an angel from Heaven sliould dis- 
parage you, if you looked at me like that I should dis- 
believe him. But one thing I do not like. You say 
you would not have me know for the world. Have 
you so little confidence in my love as to believe it 
could not stand any test short of the loss of your 
affection ? ” 

“ Well, perhaps I was wrong in that, but the secret 
is not mine — the secret is not mine ! ” 

The last words came like a wail and smote the 
Kentuckian’s heart like a knife. 

“ Never mind ! do not distress yourself,” he cried. 
“ I believe in you, I trust you ! I will wait forever, 
if need be. I ask no further assurance, but pin my 
faith, as I have my love, blindly upon you.” 

“ My noble, gallant, trusting hero ! ” she whispered, 
placing her grand arms around his neck, and for the 
first time kissing him voluntarily. 

“ My darling, my wife ! ” 

Frank Manly was ever at Heloise’s elbow, proving 
his devotion by a thousand little attentions. But 
whenever he attempted to grow more pointed, he 
met with a bewildering flow of badinage, or perhaps 
a willful misunderstanding of his meaning that drove 
him fairly wild. The fact was, however, Heloise was 
getting a little . friglitened. The straight-forward 
character of her lover did not admit of much evasion. 
He loved her; he had received sufficient encourao-e- 
ment to warrant strong hopes of liis love being recip- 
rocated and although baffled temporarily, he showed 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


49 


a restiveness indicating . that he would not stand 
much further trifling. 

In this emergency she bethought her of the strong- 
est, if one of the commonest expedients of her sex. 
She would make him jealous. To this end she con- 
trived to call to her side a certain John Sound, a 
veteran bachelor whose name had figured for many 
years in Louisville society. Heloise managed to 
find this excuse and that reason for keeping Major 
Sound near her, until the handsome blue eyes of the 
young New Yorker began to be opened in a double 
sense. At first he could hardly believe his own 
senses, but as she continued to play the battery of 
her charms on the worn old heart of her veteran ad- 
mirer, all became but too clear. 

The climax was reached, however, when, in a spirit 
of willful coquetry, she pinned a Jacqueminot rose 
upon the lapel of the major’s coat. Without allow- 
ing a muscle of his countenance to change. Manly 
left her under a convenient pretext and wandered out 
in the air to pull himself together. 

The sudden revelation of her character brought 
back the caution his friend and employer had given 
him a few days before, while in the Club room. 
He lighted his cigar and prepared to look the situa- 
tion squarely in the face. There was no doubt about 
it, he had simply been used by a lieartless coquette 
as a plaything for her vanity. And added to the 
bitterness of his disillusionizing was the reflection 
that at least one person and perhaps others, had 
watched the entire procedure understandingly. He 
felt as one awakened from a pleasant dream. It was 


50 A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 

a pity to lose such visions, but after all they were 
only visions and so — let them go. 

Returning to the house he passed the captain and 
stopped him just long enough to say : 

“ You tried to prevent me from making a fool of 
myself, but I would not listen. I have about come 
the cropper you predicted, but not exactly in the 
same way. There are no bones broken, however, and 
the bruises will soon heal.” 

Wick looked him a moment straiglit in the eye. 

“ I believe you, my boy. Want a stroll ? ” 

“ Thank you ; just had one. I hope your thoughts 
will be pleasanter than mine. Good night ! ” and he 
deliberately and unroman tically went to bed. 

The next day he met Heloise’s eye with composure 
as unruffled and undisturbed as if he had not lain 
awake half the night cursing his own folly and her 
coquetry. Nor did his demeanor change when she, 
fearing she had gone too far, sought to again draw 
him to her side. Her innuendoes fell unheeded, or 
were taken in the most literal sense. He showed 
her exactly as much attention as he did other women 
in the party and no more. And so there was an en- 
tirely new feeling tugging at her heart-strings which 
greatly resembled remorse. 

Meanwhile a different sort of scene was being 
enacted in the palatial residence of Peyton Du- 
lany. Ransom Randolph had been beside himself 
with anticipation since that never to be forgotten 
waltz. He had known Margie Dulany long. Indeed 
his wife — for he was a widower — ^had been her class- 
mate at boarding-school and the two friends had kept 


51 


A Blue-G-rass Thorouglibred, 

up their intimacy until the untimely death of the 
one which occurred shortly after the ill-starred mar- 
riage of the other. He had seen the brutal conduct 
of her husband, and his attempts to foil some of 
the subtle blows aimed by Dulany at his wife’s 
peace had been the first bond of sympathy between 
them. It had grown to a deeper feeling uncon- 
sciously to both, until the opportunity and the temptg,- 
tion had come together and told each heart not only 
its own secret but the other’s. 

So when Sunday afternoon at last arrived, it Avas 
with a feeling of profound agitation, accompanied 
with assurance of success, that he called. He was 
ushered in and she almost immediately joined him. 

No allusion was made to their last meeting. For a 

O 

time they conversed upon indifferent subjects witli 
an affectation of composure which their tremulouc 
voices belied. Suddenly he arose and seating himself 
beside her, attempted to draw her gently to him. 
She repulsed him ; he was not much astonished, for 
he expected some resistance. He renewed his at- 
tempt a little more forcibly. She still resisted, but 
he gently OAmrcame her opposition and passing his 
arm around her, he held her to his breast and pressed 
a second burning kiss upon her quivering lips. 

Then a most unexpected thing happened. Her 
hair had become loosened by the struggle and fell in 
waving masses around her. She slipped from his 
arms like a serpent and suddenly kneeling before 
him on the bear-skin rug, poured forth an impas- 
sioned entreaty that took his breath away. 

Oh, Ransom ! have pity, be generous ! Your wife 


52 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

was my friQnd, and though, since the other day, I 
may be no longer worthy to claim that honor, once 
I was. I have been weak and wicked to allow you 
to come. I have no words of blame for you, but 
only myself. I am a wife, though an unloved one ; a 
mother, tho-ugh perhaps an unworthy one. Spare 
me ! leave me ! In the name of Heaven, do not tempt 
me ! By the memory of your dead wife, I beseech you 
leave me now and forget you ever knew me ! ” 

Her words came in a burning torrent from her lips ; 
her slight but exquisitely moulded figure shaken with 
passion, her face filled with contending emotions. 
She presented a picture he never forgot. 

The unexpected appeal, the manner in which it was 
made, and the memories it evoked — for Randolph had 
been a devoted husband — were too much for his self- 
command. Blinded with tears, he raised her from 
her knees, pressed one kiss on her forehead, took his 
hat and was gone I 


A Blue- Grr ass Thoroughbreds 


53 


CHAPTER VIL 

The racing season was over, and the pleasant party 
broken and scattered to their respective homes. 
Captain Breckenridge went to Nashville with Frank, 
following up the success of his now famous colt, with 
great vigor. Randolph, after a cordial and unembar- 
rassed farewell to Mrs. Dulany, which took place in 
the presence of a number of people, had betaken him- 
self to Virginia. Natalie had gone to New York to 
spend a few weeks with her father, but had arranged 
to meet Mrs. Dulany in December, at Jacksonville. 

In due course of time, Natalie arrived at her des- 
tination, and installed herself comfortably in the lux- 
urious residence of her father on Madison Avenue. 
She knew she must have a trying scene with him ; she 
knew his overbearing nature and impetuous temper, 
but she had inherited much of his iron will, and sup- 
ported as she was by her great love, she felt strong 
to meet his opposition. 

She was in no hurry but took several days to ma- 
ture her plans, or rather to get her “ courage to the 
sticking point,” awaiting a favorable opportunity. 
Matters were precipitated, however, one morning by 
the arrival of the mail. Whilst they were at breakfast 
a letter was handed Natalie, who took it with a most 
unmistakable blush and placed it by her plate for 
more leisurely perusal. 


54 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

“ Wlio is that letter from ? ” her father- asked, some- 
what sharply. 

“ Captain Wicklyffe Breckenridge.” 

The tones were quiet but her heart beat quicker 
as she realized the explanation must come. 

“ Captain Breckenridge ! You mean that horse- 
jockey who came to me in August to ask your hand ? ” 
I mean the gentleman who visited you for that 
purpose.” 

“ The man who insulted me in my own office, brav- 
ed and defied me — the man whom I threatened to 
have ejected from my presence ? ” 

“ Yes, threatened, but did not do it, I believe.’ 

The sarcasm came so quickly that at first he did 
not realize how thoroughly she was opposing him. 

“ How dare he, the scoundrel ! how has he the in- 
solence to address 3^11 after my telling him what I 
did? I can’t understand his impertinence.” 

“ Perhaps the fact that it was in reply to my letter 
may have influenced liim somewhat.” 

“ What ! ” he fairly gasped. 

“ I said that it was a reply to my letter to him.” 
You — ^you wrote him ? What — wliy ! what the 
devil did you write him for ? ” His face was becom- 
ing purple and his lips ashen, as he realized tliat he 
was being again braved. 

‘‘Your language is not very polite, but as your 
curiosity is natural I will gratify it. I am engaged to 
be married to him.” 

“ What ! ” — if his voice had been forte before, it 
was fortissimo now. “You, engaged to that red-faced, 
wliisky-drinking, gambling, horse-jockey ! That 


55 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

bully who stalks about insulting people ! That 
scheming fortune-hunter ! that — that — ” his very 
passion was too much for him and he paused and 
sank back in his chair, gasping and choking with 
fury. 

Natalie had expected just such an outbreak, and 
consequently was prepared to bear it with calmness. 

“ If you have quite finished your catalogue of his 
vices I will reply to them. First, his family and 
standing in that most aristocratic of countries in which 
he has spent his life, is exceptionally high. Second, 
his fortune, though not large, places him far beyond 
the suspicion of fortune-hunting. Third, he is not 
in any sense a horse-jockey. lie inherited a farm 
and horses from an ancestry of gentlemen horse-rais- 
ers in a community where such a business is regarded 
with approval and respect. He has conducted that 
business without reproach since his father’s death, 
and deserves credit for so doing. As for gambling 
and drinking, those are merely the epithets of an 
angry man, for you cannot know anything detri- 
mental to his character. I, who know him well, 
know him to be a noble, chivalrous, high-minded gen- 
tleman, one whose love any woman might be proud of 
having won, and some day I will try to prove myself 
worthy his great, manly, noble heart.” 

She had forgotten herself and him. Her mind had 
gone back to the many proofs of confidence, of en- 
during love he had given her, and her face was glo- 
rified with the love she had given him in return. 

Pier father gazed at her in amazement, brought 
back to himself by her unexpected outburst. 


56 A Blue-Grass Tho'^oughhred. 

“ Some day ! ” he repeated sneeringly, “ so you e^c- 
pect to marry him ‘ some day ? ’ ” 

“ I most certainly do.” 

“ Do yon forget why you had best not marry with- 
out my consent?” 

“ No.” 

“ And you expect me ever to give it ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ And yet you say you will marrj" him ‘ some day,” 
knowing that I will never consent as long as I live ! ” 

“ As long as you live ! ” 

“ And you tell me — ^you dare tell me that you 
will await my death and marry him after that? ” 

“ I tell you just that.” 

“You heartless, unfeeling, ungrateful girl ! How 
can you deliberately tell me to my face that you are 
counting on my death ? ” 

Some of his impetuosity of temper flashed from 
her eyes as she rose to her feet. 

“ How can I ? I will tell you. All her married life 
you bullied and harassed my mother, breaking her 
spirit and hurrying her to an early grave. Me, you 
never could bully, for you know I do not fear you. 
When, after my mother’s death, you became pos- 
sessed of that fearful secret, the secret which you 
have held over me ever since, you have been able for 
the first time to conquer me. You call me heartless ! 
How can you expect affection or gratitude in ex- 
change for what 3 ^ou have given me. Do you sup- 
pose any one could love you, when, right now, in this 
case, for a whim — a mere whim — for you know 
nothing about Captain Breckenridge — you are will- 


57 


A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 

ing to Imperil the whole of my future happiness I 
Because he did not cringe and bow to you, because 
he was a man and not afraid of you, you asperse his 
motives, traduce his character, and villify him to me. 
I tell you now, that I correspond with him — that I am 
going to Florida to meet him — thank God, my money 
is my own and I can go where I please — that I am en- 
gaged to him, and that I mean to marry liim.” 

She had lashed herself into a fury and stood now 
with her noble figure drawn to its full height, one 
grand arm raised in denunciation and her eyes ablaze 
with passion. 

Like most high-tempered men, Nathaniel Pegrain 
was appalled at the exhibition of a passion superior 
to his own. He was just a little frightened but de- 
termined to “bluff it through.” 

“ Suppose I should choose to tell now. What 
would your lover do then ? Leave you fast enough, 
I dare say.” 

“ He would not. His love would support me 
through it all. But you won't tell now.” 

“ Why will I not ? ” 

“ Because you only care to carry your point ; and 
because if you did, you would loose your hold on me, 
and the first thing I should do would be to marry 
Captain Breckenridge.” 

And without waiting for a reply, slie swept out of 
the room like the queen of women she was, leaving 
him speechless and aghast. 

Once in her room, however, the nervous tension 
loosened, and she fell on her bed sobbing and kissing 
the unread letter she had carried all through the 


58 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


scene, in as close an approach to genuine hysterics as 
she had ever come in her life. 

Her father, strangely quiet, put on his overcoat, 
stepped into his coup^ and was driven to his office 
where he scarcely opened his lips all day, much to 
the marvel of his terrorized clerks. 


A Blue-Crrass Thoroughbred, 


59 


CHAPTER VIIL 

Donald MacDonald, as his name would indicate, 
was a Scotchman, but he had left his country when so 
young that his thoughts and language were thorough- 
ly Americanized. His parents had come to Lexing- 
ton when he was scarce two years of age and, dying 
shortly after, had left him among strangers and pen- 
niless. Kindly hands were stretched out to Iiim, 
however, in that most hospitable of regions. His 
native shrewdness came to the assistance of his inde- 
fatigable industry, and now in his forty-seventh year, 
he had a tidj^, well-stocked little farm held in his wife’s 
name, in addition to a prosperous dry goods estab- 
lishment ill Lexington. 

The sole fruit of his marriage was his daughter 
Jean, on whom he lavished the affections of his strong 
nature, and on whose education he had spared no ex- 
pense. Jean MacDonald was at this time in her 
twenty-first year and was a daughter of whom any 
father might be proud. She was a sweet-faced, Scot- 
tish-looking lassie, with a head of thick curly hair, 
that was undeniably red — a rich, deep, glossy red. 

Her dazzlingly fair complexion and light blue eyes 
contrasted so sharply with her peculiarly colored hair 
as to cause the beholder to look at her with a doubt 
most commonly resolved into downright admiration. 


60 


A Blue-G-rass TKorougTihred, 


Heloise Churchill and Jean MacDonald had been 
room-mates and intimate friends at Vassar. The 
sweet, amiable and somewhat slow mind of the one 
forming a complement to the bright, alert, and at times 
sarcastic intellect of the other. In their classes 
Heloise was always first to speak and her recitations 
were erratic and often brilliant, whilst Jean was 
deliberate and often hesitating, but always solid. 
She never attempted a superstructure until her sub- 
structure was thoroughly grounded. 

After the Cave trip, Heloise saw no more of F rank, 
a circumstance which, after surprising her very much, 
began to annoy her and finally to pain her. The fact 
dawned on her that the blond-haired young athlete had 
grown very necessary to her. How many times she 
repented the heedless coquetry that had cost her his 
esteem I Other men had allowed her to do as she 
pleased, and she had invariably ended by pleasing to do 
without them. But this one, who so coldly turned 
from her at the first attempt she made to trifle with 
him, was a new experience. 

As time passed and she realized that Frank had 
gone to thoj farm near Lexington, without the idea of 
returning to Louisville, she was confronted with the 
idea of a permanent separation from him. The case 
had now become desperate. She must do something, 
and she cudgeled her keen brain for an expedient. 

Just at this crisis came a letter from Jean Mac- 
Donald, with an invitation to visit her at her home. 
It so happened that the MacDonald farm and that 
owned by Breckenridge adjoined, and Heloise gladly 
availed herself of the invitation, and hastily making 


61 


A. 3lue-G-ras8 Thoroughbred. 

her preparations, she took the war-path, figurativelj^, 
and the “ Short-Line ” train, literally, for the blue- 
grass regions. 

Jean was waiting and delighted to see her. She 
carefully bundled her into a phaeton, leaving the 
charge of the baggage to her servant. 

A drive of about four miles brought them to a large 
open gate, whose huge stone posts and wide entrance 
seemed replete with hospitality. Through this gate 
and into a grove of venerable oak and elm trees, the 
tortuous drive wound picturesquely up to an old- 
fashioned house, some quarter of a mile back from 
the “ pike. ” 

The house was of that modified classic style of 
architecture, formerly so popular in the South, with 
huge corrugated wooden pillars, once a clever imita- 
tion of marble, but now stained and blistered by many 
suns and weather-beaten withal. It was a roomy, 
breezy, delightfully liospitable old place, and into this 
spacious abode Heloise was ushered, up the broad oak 
stairs and into her own chamber, arranged on the same 
generous plan. Her toilet made, she repaired to 
the “reception room ” where she met Mr. and Mrs. 
MacDonald ; the latter, a buxum, round-cheeked, 
good-natured Irish woman, whose nationality was 
perceptible in “ the soft twang in the turn of her 
tongue,” scarcely noticeable, but adding a ripe and 
mellow charm to the tones of her voice. 

In a little while they were at supper and enjoying 
a feast of Kentucky fried-chicken and “ pone, ” corn- 
bread, with a fresh buttermilk accompaniment* that 
would have delighted an epicure. 


62 


A Blue-G-rass Thorouyhhred. 


“I have invited a couple of gentlemen to call this 
evening,” said Jean. 

“ Ah, that will be pleasant. Do I knew them ? ” 

“1 don’t know. Charlie Duncan is one and Frank 
Manly the other. Do you know either of them.” 

“ I have met Mr. Manly,” answered Heloise, con- 
cealing the wild beating of her heart under an indif- 
ferent air. 

“ Oh, have you? Don’t you think he is splendid? 
He is a new-comer here, and all the girls are pulling 
caps for him. But, somehow, he seems shy — well, 
not shy, either, but as if he did not believe anything 
they say. Well, of course he is not impolite, or any- 
thing of that sort, don’t you know ? but — ” she stop- 
ped, unable to express herself as she wished. 

“ Yes, I like him very much indeed. Rather too 
forward at times, I thought.” 

“ Oh, how can you say so ? I find him too reserved.” 

Heloise shot a quick penetrating glance at her 
friend, and a puzzled look came over her face. 

They finished the meal without further comment, 
and soon after the grating of buggy wheels was heard 
on the gravel drive and Charlie Duncan entered. He 
was a neatly-dressed, well-meaning fellow, chiefly 
distinguished by having the worst crossed eyes in 
Kentucky, and by his tendency at all times to tease 
people. This was particularly annoying, for if ever 
a victim, worried by the untimeliness of his foolery, 
showed the least impatience, it was the source of 
most unbounded enjoyment to Duncan and insured 
redoubled exertions on his part. 

He had been quite “ smitten ” with Jean ; indeed 


63 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

mutual friends were beginning to couple their names 
significantly, after the delightfully gossipy fashion of 
that community where the first formal announcement 
of the engagement is the receipt of the wedding 
cards. 

The formal presentation over, he seated himself be- 
tween the ladies, but before the conversation had 
fully gotten under headway, Frank Manly entered. 
He was not expecting to see Heloise, as his note of 
invitation had simply read : “ A friend of mine from 
Louisville.” He started perceptibly on recognizing 
her. However, he advanced promptly, shook hands 
politely, and, after a few conventional phrases, seated 
himself beside Jean and remote from her. 

This procedure nettled the little coquette, and she 
in turn bestowed her smiles on her cross-eyed vis-a-vis 
until his brain was more confused than his vision. 

Frank left first and Heloise absolutely had not had 
a chance to speak a dozen words to him during the 
course of the evening. However, as sundry liorse- 
back rides, drives, and picnics had been discussed, 
she was not entirely discouraged. 

The horseback rides and picnics, however, de- 
veloped nothing new in the situation. Frank was 
always polite and save that he no longer sought to 
avoid her, he was unchanged in his bearing. Charlie 
Duncan, on the contrary, was completely fascinated 
by her. She alternately encouraged him, in the vain 
hope of spurring Frank’s languid affection, and 
vented upon him her anger and disappointment at 
her non-success. He never knew in what mood he 
should find her, or how long she would remain in 


64 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


it. She had him completely wound round her finger, 
and made him fetch and carry and do her bidding, 
even to the point of absurdity. But he was not 
Frank, and she raged internally thereat. 

And so Heloise protracted her visit day after day, 
far beyond the limit she had fixed. It was now 
December, and the cold weather was coming on. She 
must go home soon ; but not before she had made 
one desperate effort to regain her lover. Ilegain him 
she must and would. 


Blue-Qras% Thoroughbred* 


65 


CHAPTER IX. 

The holiday season was approaching, the days 
shortening and colder weather making itself felt. 
The hotels throughout Florida were beginning to fill 
with pleasure-seekers. Among the arrivals was Nat- 
alie, who immediately telegraphed Mrs. Dulany, 
notifying her and urging her to join her at once. 

Margie Dulany handed the telegram to her hus- 
band at breakfast next morning. 

“ When do you want to go ? ” he asked. 

“At once.” 

“ Veiy well, I will secure tickets and berths for to- 
morrow. Can you be ready ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ All right. I will arrange things for you, so that 
you will have no trouble.” 

There was an unusual ring in his tone that she was 
too preoccupied to notice. 

He did secure the tickets and berths as he prom- 
ised, checked her trunk and facilitated her depart- 
ure by every means in his power, and watched the 
train pull slowly out, with a smile on his lips, that 
would have puzzled the most skilled physiognomist. 
Turning, he entered the carriage and was driven to a 
handsome brown-stone residence on Fourth Avenue. 

“ Mr. or Mrs. Mayhew in ? ” he asked of the sable 
servitor. 


66 A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 

“ The ’fessor s in de lab’tory. De Madmae has 
not yet returned from her social obligations,” answer- 
ed the pompous negro. 

“ All right ; I’ll go in and see him,” he answered, 
a fleeting shade of annoyance crossing his florid face. 

Tarleton Mayhew, almost universally called “ the 
professor” by his acquaintances, looked up, and 
greeted him with a pleasant smile. 

“ Hillo Peyton ! Don’t come in. I am investigating 
a new poison and don’t know just what effect the 
vapor may have.” 

“ And yet you risk it ?^’ 

“ h, poisons are my hobby, you know, and a true 
scientist must take his risks for the sake of man- 
kind.” 

“ I don t quite see what good a new poison is going 
to do mankind. However, I have no desire to risk 
my precious carcass to benefit mankind, so I’ll wait 
in the library.” 

The professor did not reply, having become ab- 
sorbed in watching his re-action. 

He was a tall, spare, delicate-looking man, with 
narrow shoulders, slightly stooped, a bony head, with 
massive forehead, deep-sunken, far-away eyes and an 
abstracted air. His face, however, indicated great 
tenacity of purpose, which a natural reticence made 
appear rather sullen. His was a sensitive and much 
misunderstood nature. Of ancient lineage and con- 
siderable wealth, he had indulged his penchant for 
scientific research all his life. Some four years be- 
fore, he had been attracted by the merry efferves- 
cence of Norah McQuade and after a brief, shy court- 
5 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 67 

ship had married her. He was too “ good a catch ” 
for her to refuse him ; but he slowly awakened to the 
fact that she was totally unsuited to him. Her effer- 
vescence was simply frivolity. She had no concep- 
tion of the depths of his nature, nor ability to appre- 
ciate them. She had married for money and position ; 
on realizing which fact he had retired yet more 
deeply into his beloved science, and given her fuE 
scope to enjoy herself in her own way. 

Eagerly she availed herself of the opportunity and 
soon was a shining light in the social world. Ha 
liimself seldom ventured there where he was com- 
monly known as “ Mrs. Mayhew’s liusband,” though 
he could write a dozen letters after his name if he 
chose, and was corresponding member of nearly every 
scientific society of note in the old world. 

One visitor alone was congenial to both husband 
and wife. Peyton Dulany ran in and out of the- 
Jionse at all hours, and behaved altogether like one of 
the family. His cheerful off-hand manner was very 
pleasing to the professor, and Mrs. Mayhew found 
him quite ready for a flirtation at all times. 

“ I have to deliver a lecture to-night, Peyton ; won’t 
you stay to dinner and keep Norah company until 
my return ? ” Mayhew said to him, half an hour after 
his entrance. 

“ Indeed I will, with great pleasure,” he answered 
heartily. 

Dulany lighted a cigar, and the professor smoked 
a quaint meerschaum that had been sent him from 
Germany, and they chatted over their tobacco until 
dinner was announced. 


68 


A Blue-Crrass Thoroughbred. 


After dinner, the professor donned his overcoat, 
kissed his wife good-bye and left. 

Scarcely had the door closed, wlien the attitude of 
the two he had just left together, underwent a strik- 
ing change. Norah May hew arose, unlocked a door 
ill the side-board, took out a cut-glass decanter and 
some cigarettes, poured out two glasses of brandy, 
gave Peyton Dulany one and took the other her- 
self. Lighting one of the cigarettes, she perched 
herself on the arm of the chair in which he was com- 
fortably stretched, sipped her brandy and smoked in 
a perfectly self-possessed manner. 

“ I say, Norah,” he said at last, “ I am tired of this. 
Let’s make a bolt of it.” 

The liquor glass stopped half-way to her lips. 

“What do you mean ? ” she gasped. 

‘T mean just this ; I am tired of this double life. 
You say you love me. You have given me every 
proof I have ever asked of you. Now I am going to 
ask the greatest proof of all. I am going to ask you 
to go away with me — yes, elope with me. We may 
as well speak plainly. You know how unhappily 
mated I am. I know how unappreciated you are. 
Come with me to a foreign country, where, under a 
new name and new conditions, we can begin life over 
again.” 

He passed his arm around her and drew her down 
upon his breast raining passionate kisses upon her 
lips and eyes. 

Her blonde face became suffused, her very eyes 
were bloodshot. 


69 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

“ Go with you ?” she whispered, hoarsely ; “ I’d go 
to perdition with you, if you asked me.’' 

“ When ? ” 

“ When you will.” 

“ To-morrow ? ” 

“ This very night, if you say so.” 

“ No, but to-morrow. Make some excuse to ac- 
count for your being absent all day, so as to give us 
twenty-four hours start. Be prepared and meet me 
at the station at eleven o’clock.” 

“I will not fail. What must I bring?” 

“ All your jewels and as little else as possible.” 

“ I will do just as you say. Give me one kiss more, 
and I will go and bathe my face, for he will be back 
presently.” 

There was a marked emphasis on the word “ he,” 
full of concentrated contempt, even hatred. 

She left him, and he sat with a cynical, half sneer 
on his countenance, pulling away at his cigar and 
sipping his brandy, until she returned. 

“ I will go now,” he said. “ Tell him I remem- 
bered an engagement or something. I intend to say 
I am going to Florida to join my wife. You might 
mention that, and give necessary preparation as an 
excuse. Remember, eleven o’clock! You will not 
fail me ? ” 

“ If I am alive I will be at the station at the ap 
pointed time to-morrow.” 

“ Till then, au revoir — our last parting,” he whis- 
pered, as he kissed her passionately. 

He left her, and still with that curious, cynical 
half sneer, sauntered leisurely around to the club. 


TO A Blue-Cirass Thoroughbred. 

There he met Captain Breckenridge, whom he took a 
little to one side and said : 

“ I say, Wick, I sent my wife to Florida to-day, 
and find quite unexpectedly that I must follow her 
to-night — some papers she forgot to sign. How much 
money have you with you ?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know ; a little over five hundred doF 
lars, I think.” 

“ That’s lucky. Cash a check for five hundred for 
me, will you ? It will save me no end of bother.” 

“ Only too happy to be of service.” 

The money was paid, and a check on a prominent 
bank given in exchange, and they sat over a glass of 
wine and chatted on indifferent subjects. 

The captain shortly left, but Dulany remained, 
and it was afterwards remembered that he had 
private interviews with several other members of the 
club, all of which ended in an exchange of paper for 
cash. 

It was forty-eight hours later before the whole 
truth became known. Peyton Dulany, reputed to 
be one of the most successful of distillers, liad dupli- 
cated, and in some instances, triplicated warehouse 
receipts for whisky that he held stored in bonded 
warehouses, to the extent of hundreds of thousands 
of dollars, and although the greater part of it had 
been lost in Wall-street, his operations for the last 
few days had been much bolder, and he had secured 
a heavy sum in cash. 

Before the public had time to recover from this 
heavy shock, they were thunderstruck with the in- 
formation that Norah Maj^hew had accompanied him 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. Ti 

in his flight to Canada. The couple Avere seen and 
recognized in Buffalo, on their way thither, by a 
commercial traveler Avho knew them both very well 
by sight, but who at that time had no suspicion of 
the truth. 

Still further excitement was occasioned by the 
news of Tarleton Mayhew’s disappearance. He had 
at first refused to believe tliat either his wife or 
friend could be false ; but before such proof as was 
brought, even his confiding nature could no longer 
doubt. 

He became suddenly very pale and quiet. He sat 
for a long time in his laboratoiy, with his head rest- 
ing upon his hands. Suddenly he arose, hastily 
threw a few articles into a traveling bag, drew a large 
sum from the bank, and was gone, no one knew 
whither. 


72 


A Blue- Crr ass Thoroucjhbred. 


CHAPTER X, 

Heloise had not yet solved the problem she had 
set herself. 

Many attempts at being left alone with Frank had 
failed, and in humbleness of spirit, new to her, she 
was meditating the advisability of asking an inter- 
view, when an unexpected auxiliary came to her aid. 

Charlie Duncan had been ratlier cavalierly treated 
that day, and into his practical-joke-loving head came 
the idea of teasing Frank and Jean, and getting even 
with Heloise, by separating the two first and leaving 
the latter with a man whom he firmly believed she 
liated. 

To this end, as the four were seated on some 
rudely constructed benches in a beech grove, some 
distance from tlie house, he made an excuse for 
taking Jean home, “for a moment,” as he said. He 
could not refrain from contorting his twisted eyes 
into an expression that lie fondly imagined was 
significant of mischievous triumph, as, looking over 
Jean’s shoulder, he caught Heloise’s eye. She un- 
derstood him well enough to know that he meant to 
keep Jean as long as he could, and saw that her op- 
portunity had at last come, and come as she wished 
it, without her own interference. 

For some time they sat in silence, Frank a little 


A Blue- G-r ass TliorougJihred, 7B 

embarrassed, she nerving herself to the occasion and 
reflecting as to the best mode of attack. 

“ Mr. Manly,” she said, suddenly, “ why do you 
hate me ? ” 

“ I hate you ! I assure you I have no such feeling.” 

“ Why, then, do you avoid me? 

‘‘ Miss Churchill, if I have in any way been rude 
to you, I sincerely beg your pardon. It was unin- 
tentional I assure you.” 

“ Oh ! It is not that. You have never done one 
thing I could find fault with ; but you avoid me.” 

“ I beg to ” 

“ Yes, I know. But you are the hardest man I 
ever knew. Do you expect others to judge you as 
harshly as you do them ? ” 

“ I declare to you that I don’t understand you.” 

“ Well, it’s a difficult thing for me to do, but there 
is something I must say to you. I am not accus- 
tomed to feeling myself despised, and I must put my- 
self right in your eyes, even though I go beyond the 
limits usually proscribed by the convenances^ 

“ But, Miss Churchill — ” 

“ Please do not interrupt me,” she went on, speak- 
ing nervously and rapidly. “ You have never had 
any respect for me since the night I pinned that 
flower on John Sound’s coat.” 

“ It did seem inconsistent with a certain speech 
made some days previous on the race stand.” 

“ Of course it did and was. The action was the 
impulse of the moment, and was done in a spirit of 
iniscliief. Yet you have passed judgment, and con- 
demned me without judge or jury. You stalk along 


74 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

on your pharisaical way, without one trace of len- 
iency or charity for human weakness and frailty in 
your heart. And more than that, you take occasion 
in your cold, Yankee way to make me feel how utterly 
and entirely you despise me. Do you think I have 
no feelings, that you so persistently humiliate me ? ” 

‘‘Miss Heloise ! Do not, I beg of you, say more. 
Much that you have said comes from your imagina- 
tion. The little that is just, I most sincerely depre- 
cate. I never dreamed ” 

“ Never dreamed that I had any depth of feeling, 
any heart, or was anything but a soulless butterfly, 
a blas4 woman of the world ; in other words, a pro- 
fessional flirt.” 

Now this was-^ pretty nearly what Frank had 
thought for the last three months ; but by a curious 
change of sentiment, it was just what he would not 
have her know he thought for the world. 

“ My dear Miss Heloise ! ” he answered, capitalizing 
each word, as it were. “ How can I convince you of 
your mistake? That I did somewhat misjudge 3^011, 
I honestl}'- confess, and that I was, as you most 
truthfully say, pharisaical and priggish, I also ac- 
knowledge. But that I entertained such an opinion 
as that, I beg you not for a moment to believe. Your 
noble womanly courage in speaking to me on the 
subject as 3'ou have, has of itself convinced me of the 
error of my hasty judgment. But that was not so 
harsh as you imagined. I have not avoided you ; 
but as you seemed quite well occupied with our Lex- 
ington friend, I did not disturb 3"ou.” 

‘‘ Oh, Charlie Duncan ! It’s right funny, is it not ? ” 


75 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbreds 

“ Wliat is right funny ? ” 

“ The game those two are playing.” 

“ Which two ? ” 

“ Why, don’t you know ? ” 

‘‘ I have not one idea of what you are trying to 
convey.” 

“Really?” 

“ Really ! ” 

“Why, I thought you were understanding and 
helping along, as I was. Why, Charlie Duncan and 
Jean MacDonald were engaged all last summer and 
had a tiff, broke off tlie engagement, and all that; 
but did not quit recognizing each other. Since then 
they have been playing at cross purposes, and trying 
to make each other jealous. Why, it’s more fun 
than anything I have seen for many a day. The best 
part of the fun is that they both love each other, but 
are obstinate and won’t yield. I guess Charlie has 
had enough of it, however, for he made the silliest 
excuse to get her to the house, and they have been 
gone twice as long as there was any occasion for 
already.” 

Frank remembered that he had heard the rumor 
frequently, and their prolonged stay was convincing 
of itself. 

“Well, I declare, I am stupid,” he confessed, as 
these reflections came to him. “ I suppose they liave 
‘ made up ’ now.” 

“ Yes ; they have been gone long enough to 
straighten matters, I dare say.” 

“Well, I am comfortable enough here, so let us 
give them all the time they want.’ 


T6 A Blue- Grass Thorouhghred, 

This speech delighted Heloise beyond measure. 
She exerted herself to please, and allowed her bright 
wit and vivid imagination full play, charming him as 
she alono could charm. The sense of his former 
harshness in judgment was fresh on him, and he lent 
himself to her words in a manner which brought out 
her best qualities. It soon ceased to be an effort, 
and when, some time after, Jean and Duncan re- 
turned, it was to find them in high spirits, laughing 
gleefully and exchanging badinage in a way that 
caused both the new-comers to open their eyes. 

There was no exchange of partners for the re- 
mainder of the day, Frank feeling obliged to leave 
the re-united lovers, as he believed Jean and Dun- 
can to be, as much to themselves as possible, and 
Heloise naturally delighted to keep him. 

Several callers dropped in that night and it was 
late before the girls went to their rooms. Jean 
stopped in Heloise’s apartment to indulge in that 
greatest of luxuries to the feminine nature, taking 
down their back hair and having a good talk. 

Heloise was in the highest spirits, playing the 
maddest pranks and bewildering her young hostess 
with her overflowing humor and nonsense. 

“ What makes you so hilarious to-night, Heloise ? ” 
asked Jean at last. 

“ Oh ; the best of reasons ! I am wildly happy.” 

“ Why, what has made you so ? ” 

“ Oh ; I have got my sweetheart back. I thought 
I had lost him, but it’s all right now.” 

“ Why, I did not see any mail arrive. Did you 


^4. Blue-Grass TltorougJihred, 


77 


get a letter? Tell me all about it,” in a flutter of 
feminine sympathy. 

“ Letter ? No it's Frank — Mr. Manly, I mean.” 

“ Why, Heloise, I thought you barely knew him.” 

“ Oh, that’s part of tlie whole wretched business. 
We were almost engaged down in Louisville, this 
fall, and went to the Cave in the same party. Every- 
thing was just going lovely when he took me to task 
about old John Sound; as if anybody could be in 
love with dear old Major Sound ! I was huffy and 
resented the tone he assumed. He became jealous 
and wanted to run things his way and — well, the 
long and short of it is we had a quarrel. He did not 
expect to see me here, when he came in the first 
night. Did you not see how embarrassed he was? 
Well, we have been playing at cross-purposes ever 
since I have been here. I flirted with Charlie Duncan, 
and he with you, each trying to make the other feel 
bad, don’t you know? and both succeeding. He 
owned up to-day ; -said lie had no right to talk as he 
had, begged my pardon and promised to be awfully 
good for the future. And I — oh, Jean ! I am just 
as happy as I can be ; for I do like him more than 
any man I ever knew, and I am not going to make 
him jealous any more. I just Iiate Charlie Duncan 
now, and do hope he well keep away from here, 
because Frank is so peculiar. Oh, Jean ; if Charlie 
Duncan keeps coming here, you talk to him, won’t 
you, dear ? I came too close to losing Frank to risk 
it again.” 

She had kept up this running fire of words, watcli- 
ing Jean from the corner of her eye meanwhile. She 


78 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

saw her turn pale and gasp a little, then gradually 
resume her self-command. It was then tliat she put 
the question suddenly and poor Jean could only 
murmur her consent. 

The Scotch lassie sympathized with and congratula- 
ted Heloise in her gentle, womanly way, and soon after 
declared herself sleepy and wearily made her way to 
her own room, but not to sleep. Long, long she sat 
running her hands idly through her glorious hair, 
now hanging like a garment around her, and frequent 
and deep were her sighs, and finally when she did seek 
her couch, it was but to moisten her pillow with 
gentle tears. 

Left to herself, Heloise Churchill bounded to her 
feet, her petite figure drawn to its full height, her 
great dark eyes burning with a full blaze of triumph, 
and looked at her image in the large mirror for a 
long time. Suddenly she swept a low, graceful, 
exaggeratedly profound courtesy to her reflected self 
and in a tone in which triumph and irony struggled 
for the supremacy, she addressed it. 

“ Upon my word, my dear Miss Churchill, you are 
the most unhesitating, most imaginative, and alto- 
gether the most unscrupulous liar I ever had the 
pleasure of meeting. Accept my heartiest congrat- 
ulations and profound assurances of esteem. Bright 
visions hover over your innocent pillow, and may 
your dreams be undisturbed by the deceptions of this 
heartless world. Sweet, innocent, truthful, artless 
maiden, good-night.” 

And she turned down the light, whisked into bed, 
and was soon in profound slumber. 


A Blue-Grass Tlioroujhhred* 


79 


CHAPTER XL 

W INTER in Florida. How different from the higher 
latitudes ! No ice, no snow, no blizzards, no frost- 
bitten fingers and noses, no plumber’s bills, nor other 
seasonable evils. 

The placid sluggish rivers, the rank overhanging 
vegetation, the vivid coloring of the wild flowers, the 
twittering of many birds of brilliant hue, the clearness 
of the deep blue sky overhead, and the heaviness of 
the perfumed air, as well as the higher temperature, 
all suggest a very different season. 

Upon the balcony of the principal hotel of Jackson- 
ville, sat a group of three persons, Mrs. Dulany, 
Natalie, and Ransom Randolph. 

The meeting with the latter had been really acci- 
dental. He had long desired to see something of the 
tropical portion of his country ; an unexpected oppor- 
tunity had presented itself and he availed himself of it. 
Chance, which so often decides the most important 
events of our lives, had thrown them together 
again. 

Neither he nor Margie Dulany, had ever referred to 
the past, but had acted in the most natural manner 
possible. In fact both were afraid of the subject, and 
as Natalie was far from suspecting the truth, they had 
kept her with them always, a guardian angel, so to 
speak, saving them from embarrassing memories. 


80 A Blne~Crrass Thoroughbred, 

I want to see my mail ! ” exclaimed Natalie, break 
ing the silence that had fallen upon them. Just 
think ! we haven’t heard from the outside world for- 
th ree whole days. ” 

Well, I have heard of people being all the world 
to others, but ‘ outside world ’ strikes me as a new 
way to put it. He is the outside world to you, is he ? ” 

“ That is not even worthy of an answer, ” she re- 
plied, blushing however. 

But even as she spoke the mail was brought, and 
Natalie found several letters which she took to her 
room, to be gone, as Mrs. Dulaiiy well knew, for 
several hours. 

“Let us take our letters and go down to the boat- 
house and read them. It is more retired and entirely 
en regle,^ ” suggested Randolph. , 

“ Very well. ” 

They took their packages and walked down to the 
boat-house, where they found a cosy nook and pro- 
ceeded to open their letters. Randolph finished his 
first and seeing that she was busy with some feminine 
correspondent, unfolded his paper and began to 
read. 

Suddenly an oath burst from his lips, so deep, so 
terrible, that his companion turned and gazed at him 
in vague alarm. 

His appearance frightened her. He had turned 
so pale as to be almost livid. His heavy brows met 
in a frown 43f tremendous import, and his glaring 
eyes seemed glued to the paper. 

“ What is it?” she asked, extending lier hand to 
take the jDaper. He caught it almost violently. 


81 


A Blue- Grass TJtorouglibred. 

Have you no news of importance in your batch 
of letters ? ” he asked, keeping his self-command only 
by a supreme effort. 

“ No, ” she answered, hesitating and looking at him 
doubtfully, then running hastily over her correspon- 
dence, “ Yet, stop ! Here is a telegram I had over- 
looked. ” She opened and read it, appeared puzzled, 
and read it again. 

“ I don’t understand this at all, ” she said finally. 
He took it and read : 

“Mrs. Dulany, Jacksonville.” 

“ Matters worse than at first thought. You can 
do no good by returning. Better spend the winter 
south. Everything you could do, will be done for you. 

(Signed) Wicklyffe Breckenridge. ” 

“ Good heavens ! ” she exclaimed. “ What has 
happened ? Why do you look at me like that? What 
is it? You don’t knowhow you frighten me.” 

“ Margie,” — his voice sounded strange and sepul- 
chral — “ summon all your courage, my darling, for I 
have something to tell you that will tax it to the 
utmost. God knows I would spare you and shield 
you from this if I could ; but since you must know 
it, it is best you sliould learn it in the presence of 
one in whose sympathy and enduring love you can 
have confidence.” 

“ What can you mean ? ” 

“We are unobserved and you need all your 
strength. You will understand directly. Do not 
resist now.” And he placed his arm tenderly around 


82 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

her and held her in a firm, half embrace, which she 
was too bewildered and too anxious to resent. 

“Tell me,” she murmured. “ Put me out of this 
suspense. Never mind about breaking it to me; let 
me know the worst now.” 

“ Perhaps it is best. Your husband has suddenly 
left Louisville.” 

“Well, well, what of that?” 

“ He did not go alone.” 

“Eloped with a woman? A fitting end to his 
many infidelities. Who was she ? ” 

“ Norah Mayhew. But the worst has not yet been 
told.” 

“Worse! what could be worse? My God! you 
don’t mean he is a thief?” The last words were 
whispered in the intensity of her emotion. 

“ The term is a little different — defaulter is the 
correct one. He has embezzled nearly half a million 
dollars.” 

“ Great heaven ! Disgraced ! * disgraced ! ” she 
cried wildly. “What shall I do ? Where can I hide 
my head? How can I ever look my child in the face 
again? Oh ! I shall go mad with the shame of it ! ” 

All this and much more was sobbed out hysterically, 
as she buried her face on Randolph’s shoulder, her 
slender frame shaken by tumultuous emotions. 

He said nothing, made no effort to check the tor- 
rent of her words, or stay the violence of her grief, 
well knowing that such hysterical outburst would 
afford relief to her overcharged soul. He merely 
passed his hand caressingly along lier glossy hair 
and murmured soothingly : “ Poor little girl ! Poor 


Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 83 

little girl!” with the tender, protecting gesture one 
would use to a distressed cliild. 

By-and-by, in the very strength of its outburst, 
her grief exhausted itself. Her sobs grew fainter, 
her moans less frequent, and she became calm enough 
to converse; but the rigid, trembling hands and 
occasional convulsive breathing, showed how violent 
the storm had been, how tense the nervous system 
was. 

And then, tenderly, soothingly, he began to offer 
such little consolation as he had to give, petting and 
caressing her the while, with a wealth of sympathy 
that made itself felt more deeply than the most elo- 
quent of words. 

At last she raised her agitated face to his and 
asked : 

“ What shall I do?” 

It was the same question she had moaned out in 
her agony ; but it was put in a different tone now, 
and one which called for an answer. 

“I judge Wick Breckenridge has answered that 
question for you.” 

“ Oh ! in the telegram. I had forgotten all about it. 
It seems ten years since I first opened that telegram.” 

“ Poor little woman I But lie advised you to re- 
main here for the winter, and I am inclined to 
think his judgment correct. Is — is there any finan- 
cial difficulty in the way of your following his 
advice ? ” 

“ Oh ! no. That part of my money which,” — she 
hesitated for a word, and finally emphasized the one 
she did find with an accent of keen contempt — ^^he 


84 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

could reach, he spent long ago. My father, who 
knew him better than he imagined, left the bulk of 
my fortune in entail for my child, with ample provision 
for my maintenance, and all under the guardianship 
of a trust company ; so I know he did not get any 
of that.” 

“Well, that is consoling anyway. Can you ar- 
range to remain here ? ” 

“ Perfectly ! in fact I had already done so.” 

“ That’s right,” his tone becoming quite cheerful. 
“We have been up the Oklawaha, now we must 
‘ do ’ Fernandina and the Eastern shore. Oh, we’ll 
find enough to keep ourselves going, never fear! ” 

She understood his motives in trying to cheer her, 
and appreciated them ; she even pretended to fall in 
with them, and they sat quite a little while discussing 
their plans for the next two months ; for it had been 
long before settled that they were to reach New Or- 
leans some ten days before the Mardi Gras festivities. 

He had been holding her in a half embrace through- 
out the interview, which fact had entirely escaped 
the attention of either. All the better element in the 
Virginian’s nature had been brought out by this scene. 
He really loved the woman with a passion that some- 
times amounted almost to madness. But nowin her 
suffering and the disgrace cast upon her by another’s 
sin, she appealed to him in a way that had no trace 
of passion in it. 

She on her side had felt the sheltering tenderness 
of his great love, had needed the protecting induence 
of his greater strength, and had clung to him instinct- 
ively in the hour of her mortal agony. 


85 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

But both were beginning to become conscious now, 
as the first shock of the news began to wear away and 
the consequent emotions to subside, in a measure, 
of the unconventionality of their attitude, and both 
began to feel slightly embarrassed thereat. Just as 
he was meditating how he could withdraw his arm 
without calling her attention to the fact that it had 
been there, a military band which had been attending 
an excursion on the river and which had just disem- 
barked not far from the boat house, struck up with a 
crash that startled them like a clap of thunder. The 
band moved off, marching down the street ; but their 
faces paled and flushed as their eyes met, for the 
band was playing “ Mon Reve.” 

Their eyes held each other with a power stronger 
than the will of either. For the second time in their 
lives the strains of that waltz had entered into their 
souls, and this time it came when torn by contending 
emotions and with nervous systems too highly 
wrought, it found them unable to resist the subtle 
influence. Gradually a different look came into their 
eyes, a different color to their cheeks, a different ex- 
pression to tlieir faces. And as the second theme of 
the air was reached and from the receding music 
came the long wild wail of the cornet, his arm tiglit- 
ened around her, his lips met hers in a clinging, 
soulful kiss that caused their senses to reel in ecstacy. 
Her sorely tried heart could no longer offer resistance. 
Flinging both iier supple arms about his neck, she 
threw herself upon his breast and whispered : 

“ Oh, Ransom, my darling, my heart is breaking. 
I am homesick for a little love. Take me where you 


86 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


will, do with me as you will, only love me a little ; for, 
heart, body, and soul I give myself to you.’^ 

And the tropic sun setting in gorgeous splendor 
over the placid waters of the St. John, threw his last 
rays over the two as they sat locked in each other’s 
arms, their souls floating off into mystic realms, borne 
on the now faint melody of that never-to-be-forgotten 
waltz. 


A Blue-Grraaa Thoroughbred* 


87 


CHAPTER XIL 

It was near midnight in a small Canadian town, not 
far from the United States border. The snow was fall- 
ing in large fleecy flakes and it was intensely, bitterly 
cold. The town was very still, for the foot fall of the 
belated traveler was muffled by the soft cushion of the 
snow. There were fewsuch travelers, however, for few 
cared to brave the rigors of such a night. 

In a cottage on one of the side streets, a bright 
light gleamed from one of the windows, casting its 
warm flood far out into the desolate night. In the 
room from which the light streamed, sat a woman 
reading, or trying to read, a French novel, though 
from her frequent shifting of her position and glances 
at the clock on the mantel, it was evident she was not 
deeply interested. She was dressed in what had once 
been an elegant blue silk wrapper; but it now showed 
signs of careless wear, and was drawn around her witli 
a reckless disregard both of the appearance of the 
wearer and of consequence to the garment. Her yel- 
low, almost white hair was pushed hastily back from a 
brow on which premature wrinkles had begun to ap- 
pear, and her face bore traces of recent suffering as 
well as recent dissipation. Of the latter, indeed, 
there was sufficient evidence, in the charred ends of a 
number of cigarettes upon the carpet and the glass of 
brandy on the table. 

She wearily laid the book down and arose to shake 


88 A Blue-G-ras^ Thoroughbred, 

the anthracite stove in the room and mix herself a 
fresh glass of spirits. 

“ Past twelve,” she muttered. “ Every night he 
stays later, and yet I dare not complain. He mani- 
festly grows more tired of me every day, and when he 
casts me off, what will become of me ? Where could 
I go ? Oh, miserable, blind, idiotic fool that I was to 
leave home and luxury for the sake of such a man ! 
I thought I hated Taiieton Mayhew, but that was be- 
fore I knew what real depth of feeling is ! I hate this 
brutal ruffian, whose real nature I learned too late ; 
and yet I dare not let him suspect, for I hold him 
only through his vanity at my supposed infatuation ! 
Infatuation ! That’s the word ! That’s what I had for 
him when I left my poor half-witted husband who 
was all goodness to me. What a fool I was ! What 
a fool I was ! ” and she paced the floor in the inten- 
sity of her feeling. 

Suddenly she stopped ; an expression of loathing 
came over her face, which she quickly suppressed as 
the door swung open and a man, muffled to his eyes, 
stalked in. He submitted to, rather than returned her 
kiss of welcome, and allowed her to remove his many 
wraps without comment. 

“ Get me my slippers and mix me a hot brandy 
punch,” he commanded, rather than requested. 

She obeyed in silence, stooping down to unlace 
his shoes, and removing the snow from the tops above 
the point where the overshoes protected them. 

He sat down in moody silence, sipping his spirits. 

“ Why the devil don’t you fill me a pipe?” he 
growled. 


89 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

“ Why don’t you ask for what you want ? ” she 
snapped back, as she filled and lighted the pipe for 
him. 

He took it from her with a grunt which miglit 
have been thanks, or might have been an inarticulate 
curse. 

Any news ? ” she asked at last. 

“No ! Got a devil of a roasting at poker to-night. 
Caught me for a cool ‘ thou.’ ” 

“ Your luck seems uniformly bad. Aren’t you get- 
ting through with your money rather rapidly? ” 

“ Yes, I am. Must do something in this infernal 
hole. No amusement, no society, nobody to talk 
to.” 

“ Thank you.” 

“ Don’t mention it,” he answered, sardonically. 
“ By the way, did you get a new house-bo}^ ? ” 

“ Yes, a real jewel. Best servant I have seen 
since I reached this miserable country. Got him on 
my own terms too.’^ 

“ Well, I’m glad there’s some good news. Now 
go to bed. I want to finish my pipe.” 

“ Did you renew the lease on this house for another 
three months ? ” 

A faint color came to his cheek, but he answered 
unhesitatingly : 

“ Yes, and paid in advance as before. We are 
snug enough here I think.” 

Her face cleared perceptibly. 

“ That will keep us through the winter,” she said, 
in a more cheerful tone; “no danger of freezing to 
death, anyway. Fancy being turned out such a night 


90 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred . 

as this ! Ugh ! it’s enough to make one shiver to 
think of it.” 

“ Oh, go to bed ! ” he growled. 

“ All right. I’ll have a drink first. Stop, I’ll have 
a toast with it. Here’s to our loved and left,” and 
tossing off the liquor with a hardened laugh, she left 
the room. 

“I am glad she’s gone. She is getting too keen 
with her questions. Well, this is the last night she 
will have the chance to worry me. It does seem hard 
to leave her on the last day of the quarter ; and old 
Riley, the landlord, told me he had rented the house 
to a stranger. Well, Norah and Riley can arrange it 
to suit themselves. I’ll stay here and get a couple of 
hours of rest, and then take the four o’clock morning 
express for Ottawa. I can’t stand this life any 
longer ; I would just as lief be in jail.” 

He arose, arranged the fire, smiled grimly as he 
threw on the last piece of fuel in the house, wound 
the alarm, and drawing his chair close to the stove^ 
was soon in a deep, heavy sleep. 

He slept too heavily to hear the soft turning of the 
knob and the almost imperceptible noise of the open- 
ing door, as a dark form crept cautiously into the room. 
On seeing the sleeper, it appeared somewhat discon- 
certed, and went out as quietly as it had entered, 
and the house was as silent as before. 

Something like twenty minutes after the door 
again opened, and the dark form re-entered, followed 
by a taller and more slender figure. Softly they ad- 
vanced to the side of the sleeper, who, exhausted by 
the mental and physical strain of the day, was now 


91 


A Blue- Crrass Thoroughbred. 

snoring heavily. The taller of the two drew a small 
phial from his pocket and pulled the cork with his 
teeth. He saturated a sponge, which he held in his 
left hand, with the contents of the bottle, and waved 
it gently under the nose of the sleeper. His breath- 
ing became heavier and deeper, a greater lassitude 
relaxed the extended limbs, and soon he gave 
evidence of being entirely under the influence of the 
drug. 

Deftly the two silent figures bound the arms and 
legs of their helpless victim. Then they left him 
lying upon the floor, and mounting noiselessly to the 
room above, where the woman slept in a half-drunken 
stupor, drugged and bound her also. 

They lifted their unconscious burdens and depos- 
ited them one in each of two sleighs, which were wait- 
ing without the door, and which were instantly driven 
in opposite directions. And in this life those two 
never again saw each other. 

The next morning, when Norah Mayhew awoke, it 
was in a strange bedroom. Nothing about her was 
familiar ; she rubbed her eyes, and resorting to that 
most familiar of expedients, she pinched her own flesh 
to convince herself that she was not dreaming. But, 
no; she was in a large, plainly furnished room, 
throuorh the barred windows of which the snn was 

O 

streaming. Nothing about the premises resembled 
anything she had ever seen before. 

She arose and looked out the window. All around 
was a wide stretch of country, covered with snow ; a 
few bare trees gave additional desolation to the land- 
scape ; but nowhere could she discover traces of 


92 


A Blue-Grass Thorouglihred, 


habitation. She looked for her clothing, but coul( 
find no traces of the garments she liad last worn 
Instead, she found some very plain black dresses an( 
neat, but inexpensive, underwear. 

A folded piece of paper next attracted her atten 
tion ; she discovered that it was addressed || 
“Norah.” Opening, she read : 

“ Put on the clothes which have been provided fo| 
you ; and when you are ready to receive a visitor, 
ring the bell. You need fear no personal violenfl^ 
and will sliortly be released.’^ 

Til ere was no signature, and the handwriting wil 
unfamiliar. 

Very much puzzled and very much frightened, sin 
slowly dressed herself as directed, and when she 
thought herself sufficiently nerved for the interview, , 
she pulled an old-fashioned bell-cord which was hang- 
ing on the wall. 

A deliberate step could be heard mounting the 
bare stairs and approaching along the bare floor of 
the outer hall. A key was placed in the large old- 
fashioned lock, and with a heavy sound of the shoot- 
ing bolts, the massive door was flung open and a tall 
figure entered. 

“ My God, my husband ! ” burst from her startled 
lips, as she shrank, terror-stricken, back into her 
chair. 

He carefully closed and locked the door, and 
came slowly toward her. 

“Yes, I am that much-injured man.’’ 

“ Oh, Tarleton, have mercy ! I have wronged you, 
cruelly wronged you, but my sin has brought its 


A Blue-Grass Thorowjhhred, 


93 


' ipuiiisliineiit. My life has been a hell on earth with 
^that man. I dared not write you ; I dared not hope 
] for pardon ; but my repentance has been deep, my 
I suffering unbearable. Oh, if you only knew ! ” 
f She was cowering on the floor now, clasping his 
I knees in an agony of supplication. 

At the first touch of her arms a great shiver shook 
! his slender frame, but neither his countenance nor 
1 Voice betrayed any emotion, as he answered : 

' ‘‘ I know more than you think ; more even than 

; you know ! Step by step I have tracked you through 
your wanderings. For weeks I have known your 
whereabouts and watched your every movement. 
‘Your lives have been in my hands all that time ; but 
tl was secure in my vengeance, and could afford to 
wait for the proper time. It has come.” 

What would you do ? Oh, Tarleton, my hus- 
band, you would not murder me ? ” 

I ‘‘Never dare to use that phrase to me again ! ” he 
r thundered. “No; I will not harm your wretched 
i body. Be silent and listen. I have some things I 
I want to say to you ” — and as she crouched back ap- 
palled at his vehemence, he continued more mild- 
ly — “You said ‘if I only knew.’ I do know. I 
know that your wretched paramour had made every 
preparation to abandon you ; that the lease on your 
house terminated last night and was not renewed ; 
that the scoundrel had a ticket for Ottawa in his 
: pocket, and had engaged a sleigh to take him to the 
;four o’clock train this morning; that he meant to 
: leave you in a strange country without a dollar, 
.without shelter, without hope.” 


94 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

The woman uttered a suppressed cry : “ I half 
suspected it ! What shall I do ? ” 

“ Listen and I will tell you. I have reasons of my 
own for having you remain here for three days. At 
the end of that time an agent of mine will conduct 
you to El Paso, Texas. There you will find a small 
cottage, plainly furnished. The rent is paid, and will 
be paid so long as you live in it. The address 
of another agent will be furnished you, on whom 
you will call every day and receive an amount 
sufficient to enable you to live plainly, but comfort- 
ably. You must go every day, or furnish convincing 
proof of your physical inability to do so. Should 
you fail to do this, 3’our income will be stopped for- 
ever. If 3*0 u have really repented, you will atone 
for your misdeeds by a blameless life. If not, a paid 
agent will watch your every movement and report to 
me. This will be your only protection against abso- 
lute penury. I offer you a home; but only so long 
as you deserve it. Wait here three days. If you 
are quiet, every attention will be paid your wants ; 
if not, coercion will be used, if necessary. Me, you 
will never see again.” 

And putting her gently, but coldly away from him, 
he passed out of her sight. 

The door closed beliind him with a clang, tlie 
lieavy bolt shot to its place, andNorah Mayhew was 
left alone with her thoughts. 


A Ulue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


95 


CHAPTER XTIL 

Peyton Dulany awoke much earlier than his 
guilty companion, that morning. He found himself 
dressed as he had been when he went to sleep on 
the preceding night and feeling strangely cramped 
and uncomfortable. In endeavoring to relieve his 
limbs by changing his position, he made a discovery 
that sent every drop of his blood from his heart — he 
was manacled hand and foot I 

At first he, too, thought he was suffering from some 
horrible nightmare ; but the pain caused by the hand* 
cuffs, when he tried to free himself, soon convinced 
him of his error. He looked around him. It was early 
dawn. The faint light, struggling between the 
heavy shutters, showed him a room destitute of fur- 
niture, save a single chair and a pitcher of water on 
the mantle shelf. The floor was as bare of carpet as 
the walls of paper, A single window protected with 
stout wooden shutters and one door were the only 
openings. He found himself cliained to a strong 
staple, in the wall, and so firmly fastened as to defy 
his utmost effort to free himself. 

For some time he struggled and strove in every 
way his ingenuity could suggest, but without avail. 
Then he tried to attract attention, or to gain some 
information as to his whereabouts by calling for as- 


96 


A Blue-Gra8s Tliorouglibred. 


sistance. In vain did lie shout liimself hoarse ; in 
vain did he alternately threaten and entreat. No 
answer was vouchsafed his appeals save the hollow 
reverberation of that dreary room. 

Many weary hours passed thus. The sun was 
high in the heavens, when at last, abandoning all 
hopes of assistance, he sunk into a sullen and de- 
spairing silence. In addition to his other discomforts, 
a raging thirst began to consume him, a thirst greatly 
augmented by the sight of the pitcher on whose 
stone sides moisture was slowly forming, showing 
that it must contain water. 

At last, when he was least expecting it, the door 
was flung suddenly open and a tall slender form 
entered. 

“ Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr* Dulany,” 
said a voice that caused his heart to stop beating 
for a moment, “ but I was unavoidably detained by 
an interview with a charming lady. By the way, I 
believe you know her. She was my wife ” — and the 
heavy wra})s and overhanging cap were removed and 
Peyton Dulany’s horror-stricken eyes fell upon the 
pale, sarcastic countenance of the one man in all the 
world he had most to fear, Tarleton Mayhew. 

Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Dulany ? ” 
The tones were even and ironical to such a point as 
to sound almost playful. 

“ I don’t know what your design on me is, but if 
you have one vestige of feeling left, give me a glass 
of water,” answered Dulany. 

« Why, certainly, with a pleasure you would 
scarcely believe ! ” answered INIayhew, pouring out a 


97 


A. Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

glass full to the brim, and, holding it to the lips of 
the prisoner, watched him as he drained the last drop 
in eager thirst. 

“ You will perhaps believe me by and b}", Mr. Du- 
lany, when I assure you that of the many drinks of 
different kinds, I have had the pleasure of giving 
you in my life, I never gave you one that offered me 
more genuine pleasure. Why, I have been three 
months hunting for you just for the happiness of 
handing you that innocent little glass of water. I 
have traced you through many disguises and all over 
Canada, to offer it to you and, my dear Mr. Dulany, 
I would have followed you to Kamchatka, if need be ; 
yes, to hell and beyond, to have had the pleasure of 
presenting you with that refreshing drink.” 

“Enough of this! What do you want? What do 
you mean to do ? ” 

“ Allow me to suggest that your tone is scarcely 
polite. But to relieve your mind, I will inform you 
that I mean to have just four hours of pleasant con- 
versation with 3^ou and that is all. All ti aces of my 
whereabouts are already lost and my subsequent ac- 
tions will be a secret to the world.” 

Dulany looked at him with a lowering brow and 
questioning eyes. “ Taiietoii Mayhew,” he said, 
“ you feel that I have injured you ! So be it, I am 
willing to afford you the satisfaction one gentleman 
demands of another. 

“ Ah ! you are brave enough to meet me now. Tut ! 
tut ! what a pity it is too late I Had I been able to 
find you sooner, I migld have given you the oppor- 
tunity of completing your wrong against me by kill- 


98 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


ing me. But now I am sorry, I have made other 
arrangements.” 

“ I shall not run away again, I assure you,” mut- 
tered Dulany, with a poor attempt at bravado, quail- 
ing inwardly before the darkly smiling face of his 
enemy. 

Tlianks for the assurance, but I don’t think you 
will. There are good reasons, more satisfactory, 
pardon me, than your Avord, why you should not.” 

“Will you loosen these cursed chains long enough 
to give me a chance to meet you on equal terms? ” 

“Now, now, Mr. Dulany! Could I have spent 
these months hunting a rabid wolf, and having him 
securely caged, let him out again, as you put it, to 
give him an equal chance? Besides, how could I give 
you an equal chance so far as muscle and brawn are 
concerned? You are a pretty fair all-round athlete, a 
good shot, and a good fencer ; whereas I never fired 
a pistol or handled a sword in my life. So that your 
equal chance would mean, no chance at all for me. 
But there is another point, Mr. Dulany, which you 
have OA'erlooked, perhaps. In order to give you an 
equal chance with me, I should have to about double 
3^our brain power and as science has as yet no means 
of accomplishing that, I see no way of settling our 
differences,” he smiled again, more darkl}^ than before, 
“ by a matching of our respective forces against each 
other.” 

“ In God’s name, man, Avhat do 3"Ou propose 
doing ? ” 

“ Oh, I mean to tell 3"ou, but you are so impatient ! 
Not more than half an hour of the four is gone, and 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 99 

you wish to hasten my climax. Have some regard for 
idramatic effect, can’t you ? ” 

Through Dulany’s brain a horrible fear was be- 
ginning to form ; vague, indefinite, birt terrifying. 

“ Why do you refer to the four hours ? What is 
lyour intention, man, fiend, devil ? What do you in- 
^tend doing ? ” 

“Well, I wish to recall a little episode. You re- 
imember the last conversation I had with you? It 
' took place during the absence of my loving wife. I 
nvarned you — not out of my house — oh, no ! always 
i charmed to see you there, but out of the laboratory. 
I was experimenting with a new poison, if you 
remember, and feared the vapors might wound your 
delicate nostril. You wondered what good such a dis- 
covery could do mankind. Well, as the water in 
dhat pitcher was thoroughly impregnated with it, I 
l ean inform you that in a little more than three hours 
mankind will be benefited by the death of the most 
cold-blooded, unscrupulous, heartless scoundrel that 
'the world has ever produced. You will begin to 
[isufier in about twenty minutes. You will be dead 
in three hours and ten minutes, Mr. Dulany ! ” 

' “ Dead ! poisoned ! murdered ! You have not 

dared to — ” 

[ “Yes, I have dared to hold the glass to your lips 
with my own liands, while you drank the dose I had 
prepared.” 

“Coward! 'murderer! Give me but one chance; 
free but one hand. Let me loose, I say ! Assassin ! 
Poisoner ! You dare not meet me on equal ground!” 

The face of Tarleton Mayhew began slowly to 


100 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 


change. A greenish pallor overcast it, and his eyes 
glared with maniacal fury. His tall, slender form 
erected itself to its full height ; his bony, outstretched 
arms were raised on high, as he loosed the pent-up 
vials of his wrath : 

“ You talk to me of courage, you viper ! But 
what created thing is vile enougli to characterize 
you ? You enter my house under guise of friendship ; 
you abuse my hospitality ; you steal my wife, and 
tarnish a name that never had a blot on it before ; 
and when you tire of your plaything, you prepare 
to leave her an outcast and penniless, to freeze 
or starve in an obscure town. Ah, yes ! you may 
well start, for I know every secret of your black 
soul. I have watched you for weeks — waiting, wait- 
ing, waiting ; and now — now ! my hour has come. 
Die, you miserable, cringing cur ! Die, whilst I 
look oil and enjoy your agony. Ah, ha!” — and his 
thill, penetrating voice was raised to a shriek of tri- 
umphant laughter. “Where is your boasted cour- 
.age ? Why don’t you meet your fate like a man ? 
Why don’t you defy me now? Who is the coward? 
Have you no manhood — no pride ? The gloss of 
fashion and the mould of form absolutely grovels for 
mercy when he knows there is none. No I for you 
die — die like a poisoned wolf — no, not so bravely, 
even, for he snaps and snarls. You die like a miser- 
able cur, with his tail between his legs. Why, even 
when I kick you, you don’t move ! Dog, viper, 
hound, will nothing arouse you ? ” 

He spurned the stricken wretch witli his foot, but 


A Blue- (xr ass Thoroughbred, 101 

no evidence of consciousness of the crowning indig- 
nity was evoked. 

And so he stood there, motionless, and gazed 
with the same maniacal glare lighting up his blood- 
shot eyes, and watched the helpless wretch grovel 
and moan piteously, until the moans grew fainter, 
and finally ceased. A few convulsive movements, 
a final gasp, and the soul of Peyton Dulany took 
its flight to the awful Unknown. 

Tarleton Mayhew bent over the prostrate form, 
and carefully satisfied himself that it had ceased to 
breathe. He then removed the manacles, and once 
more spurning the carcass with his foot, turned on his 
heel and disappeared. 


102 


A Bhie~ Grass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Nobah Mayhew spent the three days allotted to 
her in the rambling old farm-house, in a state of pro- 
found dejection. She readily recognized the futility of 
attempting resistance, and made no effort at escape. 
She saw but one person in all that time, a large- 
boned, brawny French woman, whose hard features 
had no trace of feminine sympathy, but who was re- 
spectful enough. She did not understand English, 
and her French was a patois that Norah could not 
comprehend. She seemed to combine in her one per- 
son the offices of cook, chambermaid, ladies-maid 
and jailer. 

On the morning of the fourth day, the jingle of 
sleigh-bells was heard approaching. The sleigh 
shortly afterward drew up to the door, and a muffled 
figure that seemed familiar to the eager watcher from 
the window above, stepped out and came toward 
the house. 

The murmur of conversation was audible, and 
then steps approached, the key turned and the door 
opened. 

Norah, who had been in an agony of anticipation 
during all this time, so that every detail seemed an 
age, came eagerly forward to meet the new-comer; 
but, on perceiving him, she started back with an ex- 
pression of profound surprise. 

“ Louis ! ” she exclaimed. 


103 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

“Yes, madam, Louis, the French serving-man; 
Hans, the German liack-driver, or any other charac- 
ter that it suits me to assume ; but really engaged 
in a different line of business, as this may tell you.” 

And lie handed her a card, on which was neatly 
graven : 

John Roper, 

Private Detective. 

No. Street, N.Y. 

“ And you were then employed by ” 

“ Mr. Tarleton Maybe w, and am still in his ser- 
vice. He had several of us engaged, but I have been 
the lucky one. I tracked you to your home, secured 
service as your servant, and admitted my employer 
into the house that night — a task rendered easier by 
your — by Mr. Dulany’s discharging all the servants 
the day before.” 

“ Discharging the servants ?” 

“ Yes ; I was employed by you afterward, and pur- 
posely kept out of the way. He was determined that 
no one should see him leave the following morning, 
as he feared you might follow him.” 

“ Oh, the scoundrel ! May the curse of my ruined 
life rest on his soul forever. Where is he ? — for of 
course you know.” 

“ He is where no further vengeance can follow 
him.” 

“ Dead ? ” 

He nodded without speaking. 

“ Dead I ”she repeated. “ But where ? How ? By 
whom — ? Great God ! my husband ! 

“ Here is a paper containing the account of the 


104 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

finding of liis body. On reading, you will under- 
stand that of course I could know nothing about his 
death.” 

Or, knowing, would not confess the knowledge.” 

The imperturbable countenance of Mr. John 
Roper was entirely undisturbed by this. He made 
no reply, but sat in silence until she had finished the 
high- wrought account given in the paper he had 
brought. It was a genuine sensation, and the enterpris- 
ing reporter had, as he would have phrasedit, “ worked 
it for all it was worth.” Elaborate description of the 
scene of the murder was followed by columns of 
speculation as to the motive of the crime and prob- 
able criminal. 

Norah had the humiliation of reading of her relations 
with the dead man, accompanied by a pen-picture de- 
scribing her in language suited to a flash novel — 
“siren,” “voluptuous ensnarer,” “dashing blonde.” 
Throughout her adventure nothing had so thor- 
oughly opened her eyes to her real position as this. 
She had long ceased to care for Dulany, and from the 
manner of her capture, as well as the stern bearing 
of her husband in their final interview, she had been 
somewhat prepared to hear of his crowning ven- 
geance. But the familiar bandying of her name about, 
the fearless application to her of terms which but a 
few short months before a dozen chivalrous men 
would have sprung forward to protect her from, 
brouglit home to her, more forcibly than a hundred 
sermons, the enormity of her error, the utter hope- 
lessness of ever regaining lier lost prestige. And 
nothing could have wounded her more, for it struck 


105 


A ^lue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

at her vital point, her vanity. She could have 
braved gossip, even scandal of a certain piquant sort. 
She was willing* to shock the community by a daring 
action ; and, indeed, was not ill-pleased to be a 
subject of remark. But to be treated with contempt- 
uous familiarity by a “ miserable penny-a-liner,” as 
she mentally termed him, brought her real position 
home to her, and she crouched, covering her face 
with the paper, in an agony of mortification. 

Mr. John Roper sat quietly watching her, and 
giving her all the time she required, motionless and 
expectant. 

At last she raised her burning face. 

“ You have come — ? ” she said, inquiringly. 

“ As the agent Mr. May hew indicated in his last 
interview with you. We are to start for El Paso 
within two hours, provided you have consented to his 
terms.” 

“ Oh, I have no alternative, for that matter ; but ' 
they are liberal ; better than I deserve. Will you 
tell him I said that when you see him ? ” 

“ I shall not .see him again, but I will see that your 
message reaches him.” 

“ Thank you. Is there anything else for me to do, 
or that you wish to say ? ” 

“ Only this : Our tickets are purchased and 
berths engaged for El Paso. A trunk containing 
suitable clothing has been checked, and the check 
will be given to you. The house, as you have been 
informed, is rented furnished. And now I must re- 
tire to ‘ make up ’ for my part ; for I am somewhat 
known in the community, and if recognized it might 


106 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughhred, 


be unpleasant for you — take you for a criminal in 
charge, you know. Put on your wraps, for we have 
a long ride in the open sleigh.” 

So saying, he left the room abruptly; but in an as- 
tonishingly short time a venerable white-liaired, 
stoop-shouldered apparition entered again. 

“ Is my dear grand-niece ready for her journey ? ” 
he asked. 

It required all her penetration to recognize in the 
octogenarian another of the many personalities of the 
versatile Mr. Roper. She assented to his question 
without remark, however, and together they entered 
the sleigh and were driven off toward the nearest 
railroad station. 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


107 


CHAPTER XV. 

One of our recent distinguished visitors to this 
country, in giving his “ impressions,” made the just 
criticism that there was too much sameness about 
our principal cities. “ New York, Chicago, St. Louis 
and San Francisco,” he said, “ all look alike, have the 
same style of architecture and the same general plan. 
An equal distance, traversed on any other part of the 
globe, would take the traveler through a wide variety 
of country, customs and people. The United States 
impresses only by its vastness.” This criticism is 
doubtless just in the main, for our country has had 
such a spontaneous, mushroom-like growth that its 
architecture is distinctly modern, whilst the great 
facility of inter-communication makes a homogeneous 
people, a great desideratum in some respects, but de- 
structive to some of the essentials of picturesqueness. 

There are, however, a few places to which this criti- 
cism would not be applicable ; the most conspicuous of 
which is, perhaps. New Orleans. The Crescent City, 
besides being one of the oldest of our settlements, 
presents a more varied history, having been under 
Spanish and French domination before joining the 
others under American. Her history is shown in her 
houses. One broad thoroughfare divides America from 
France. The character of the architecture, the 
names above the shop doors, the characteristics of the 


108 A Mue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 

pedestrians one meets, even the names of the streets 
change as one crosses to the opposite side. From 
tlie modern American city one passes into the atmos- 
phere of a foreign town. The low, broad houses, 
generally dilapidated, but occasionally giving evi- 
dence of former luxury — for most of the French 
settlers were of the “before the war” aristocracy — 
the darker, more alien-looking people, and the list- 
less air which everywhere prevails, contrast strongly 
with the bustling, quick, energetic existence on the 
other side. Should one care to pursue one’s investi- 
gation, a further walk would disclose the flat, one- 
story adobe buildings of the Spanish rSgime^ now 
principally occupied by the negro population. 

But there is one season when listlessness disappears 
from the air and bearing of the French and Creole 
citizens, and redoubled activity presents itself 
amongst the American. Great and small, old and 
young,, wholesale and retail merchants, lawyers, doc- 
tors, brokers, idlers, gamblers, everybody old enough 
to speak, are thoroughly aroused and have one sub- 
ject of interest in common. And that is when the 
season for Lenten sack-cloth and ashes approaches. 
For between comes Mardi Gras, the great carnival 
time. 

For weeks before, preparations are going on. The 
subjects of street parade and tableaux are selected 
six months previous, and agents sent abroad to pur- 
chase, regardless of expense, the necessary parapher- 
nalia. As the time draws near, increased activity is 
observable, and finally, during the last few days pre- 
ceding Fat Tuesday, business is almost entirely sus- 


109 


A Blue- Grass TJiorouglihred. 

pended. Every one makes himself, to a greater or 
less degree, one of the Committee of Entertainment, 
and gives up nearly his entire time to that object. 

The various clubs and secret societies go into the 
thing in the most systematic way. Let a guest bring 
sufficient credentials to make his social status good, 
and he will be taken up and whirled along at a rate 
which gives him scarce time to think or breathe. It 
is the grand culmination of Southern hospitality. 

At the time our friends visited this most charming 
of cities, at the height of its joviality, they were par- 
ticularly fortunate. They had made acquaintances 
at White Sulphur who . were in the charmed circle, 
and for ten days preceding the festivities they were 
recipients of invitations to dinners, germans and balls, 
which kept them in a whirl of dissipation. Mrs. 
Dulany had made warm friends among the New Or- 
leans coterie, and though her husband’s crime was 
known, she was commended for her “ grit ” in not 
allowing it to drive her into solitude. Especial 
efforts were made that she should not feel neglected, 
and that nothing calculated to wound her sensitive 
pride should happen. 

She and Natalie had engaged a suit of rooms on 
Carondelet street. They had the entire ground floor, 
which was really fitted up elegantly, and here they 
were soon comfortably installed. 

Randolph had taken an apartment in the same 
house but on a higher floor ; as however their suite 
included a handsome parlor into which their meals 
were brought, and as he was nearly always with 
them, it was very like living together. As Natalie 


110 ' A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

and the captain were constantly seeking every op- 
portunity to be alone, many chances were afforded 
Margie Dulaiiy and her lover for the continuance of 
an affair which had grown so irresistible as to com- 
pletely sweep all other considerations aside. 

When the festivities were at their height, their 
entire time by day as well as night was occupied. A 
late breakfast was scarcely finished before they ad- 
journed to one of the clubs — which during this time 
were more frequented by the wives, sisters and 
daughters of the members than by the members 
themselves — where amid music and refreshments, 
dancing and flirting the time passed, until it was an- 
nounced that the day procession was at hand; when 
all stepped out on the capacious platform and 
watched tlie gorgeous floats move slowly by. After 
this, dinner ; then, usually, driving out ; returning to 
the same or some other club to watch the “ night 
procession. Finally they went home, dressed and 
attended the ball at the French Opera-house, at an 
hour whicli ordinarily they would have considered 
rather late for retiring. This high pressure, if one 
might call it so, to distinguish it from the ordinary 
gayety, commenced on Saturday, resumed Monday, 
and went out, literally in a blaze of glory, Tuesday 
night or rather Wednesday morning, for the festivi- 
ties lasted until broad daylight. 

On Sunday they went to the quaint French Ca- 
thedral and in the afternoon visited Lake Pontchar- 
train and the Old Spanish Fort, for they were deter- 
mined to see all there was to be seen. 

Tuesday evening they gathered upon the balcony 


Ill 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

to witness the night procession. Rex, the Carnival 
King, had had his triumphal entry during the day and 
in the earlier part of the evening one of Louisiana’s 
fairest daughters had been crowned queen, with a 
diadem of jewels of great intrinsic value, and now all 
were watching the final procession — that of the 
“ Mystic Crewe of Comus,” the oldest of the various 
secret organizations. 

The subject of the procession on this occasion was 
scenes from French history, and float after float pass- 
ed, with members of the ‘‘ Mystic Crewe ” dressed in 
elaborately correct costumes and posed in descriptive 
tableaux illustrating incidents from the Conquest of 
Vercingetorix to the era of the first Napoleon. There 
are several of these secret societies, and as a friendly 
rivalry exists between them, these processions are 
gotten up on a scale credible only to those who have 
seen them. 

“ I declare I am all Avorn out I ” said Natalie. 
‘‘ Another day would kill me. As it is, I expect to 
sleep for a week when I go to bed — if I ever get 
there ” — she added plaintively, as she remembered 
the ball at the Opera-house, still to come. 

“ Perhaps you had better not go to-night,” ug- 
gested Breckenridge, innocently. 

She looked at him in mute amazement. 

“ Not go to the ‘Mystic Crewe of Comus ’ ball?” 
— she gave the full value to every word she uttered. 
“ I believe I would get out of my grave to attend 
it — once, anyhow.” 

“Oh, all right! I only suggested, you know.” 


112 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

She laughed when she saw the effect her tragic 
manner had produced upon him. 

“ I know you were thinking about me and my 
comfort, you great boy; but of course I have to go.” 

And they did go. 

Arriving at the French Opera-house about eleven 
o’clock, they made their way through a dense crowd 
and into a proscenium box, where some friends, were 
awaiting them. 

And from the box what a scene presented itself to 
their dazzled vision ! Crowded literally from pit to 
dome with the most beautiful women in the South — 
for all the Southern cities, and for that matter, many 
Western cities, were well represented — in the richest 
costumes their purses could afford and their taste 
suggest, presenting an array so gorgeous, so brilliant, 
that New Orleans might well challenge the world 
to produce its like. 

The stage had been extended some distance over 
the parquette seats, leaving a platform which was kept 
unoccupied. Soon the sound of trumpets were heard, 
and the curtain rolled slowly up, disclosing the 
“ Mystic Crewe ” in a tableau comprising all the 
figures of the night procession. An immense band 
of musicians marched upon the stage, the tableau 
dissolved itself into a procession which walked slowly 
forward and around the edge of the platform. It 
then broke ranks, each member stepped forward and 
selected a partner from among the expectant fair 
ones, presenting her at the same time with a souvenir 
— and danced the first quadrille. The platform was 
held sacred for the Crewe for that dance, and to be 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 113 

“taken out” for this occasion is quite a distin- 
guished honor. 

The quadrille finished, the spectators became 
participators. The platform was thronged with 
young people of both sexes, engagements for further 
dances made, and in the general confusion the masked 
members of the organization slowly disappeared, to 
reappear, perhaps, in evening costume, entirely inno- 
cent of any knowledge of the previous events of the 
night. 

Gradually the mere spectators departed, leaving 
only the dancers. The thinning of the crowd left 
many cosey little corners about the proscenium boxes 
and foj^er. In one of these nooks Margie Dulany 
and Ransom Randolph were seated. Inspired by 
some remark she had just made, he threw his arm 
around her, drew her to him and kissed her passion- 
ately and repeatedly. She submitted to the caresses 
for a moment and then struggling, released herself. 

“ Oh, Ransom, how can you be so imprudent ? You 
will ruin me if we are seen.” 

He had laughingly released lier and was standing 
near, but not touching her. Her face was flushed, and 
bearinor a somewhat disturbed look, and his tie was dis- 
arranged. Before he could reply, a quick, firm foot-fall 
sounded near and Captain Breckenridge stood before 
them. Plis keen glance took in all the details of the 
situation ; but his face was unruffled and his voice 
unchanged. 

“ Oh ! here you are, you negligent chaperon I 
Natalie is completely danced down. She has com- 
pleted the conquest of half a dozen impetuous 


114 


A Blue-Crrass Thoroughbred, 


Southerners, and in the conservative language of your 
sex, declares that she is completely and entirely 
dead ; that she knows she will not live to reach home, 
and that she is really very sleepy. As it is past two 
o’clock, I can readily believe the latter statement.” 

“ Past two ! is it possible ? ” said Mrs. Dulany, 
still confused and wondering how much the Kentuck- 
ian had seen. “ Well, we must indeed be going,” 
and she rose hastily. 

“ She is over there b}^ the box we first occupied,” 
said the captain. “ Come, let us join her. By the 
way, Ranse, what time do you breakfast in the morn- 
ing?” 

“ Oh, I shall take my time to-morrow! Not before 
eleven anyway.” 

“ Got anything to do in the afternoon ? ” 

“ No ; nothing especial. Have you ? ” 

“ Yes, I want to talk to you. Suppose I drop in on 
you about two ? ” 

“All right; I should be charmed. I shall not 
leave the house till you come.” 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 


115 


CHAPTER XVL 

The next afternoon Wicklyffe Breckinridge, punc- 
tual to his appointment, found Randolph comfortably 
reclining on a sofa-couch, in diessing gown and slip- 
pers, reading a romance, smoking his meerschaum 
and looking at peace with the world. 

“ Hello, Wick ! On time, I see. Find a rocking 
chair in the corner, spare pipe and tobacco on the 
mantel, box of cigars on the bureau, good ‘ Belle of 
Nelson ’ in the side-board and matches scattered 
everywhere. Make yourself at home, take a drink 
and excuse me from moving, for the bottom of my 
feet are blistered with dancing and sight-seeing.” 

“ All right, old man ; hold the fort as you are ! 
Shall I pour you out a little ? ” holding the whiskey 
bottle in view. 

“If you will be so good. I have been wanting a 
drink for half an hour but was simply too lazy to 
take it. Oh, Wick ! my son, my best beloved son ! 
how often must I caution you against the pernicious 
habit of putting sugar in your whiskey ? Don’t you 
know that the sugar does more harm than the whis- 
key ? If ever you fill a drunkard’s grave I shall in- 
scribe on your tombstone ‘ Died from the use of glucose 
and white sand.’ ” 

“ Well, I have a most original reason for putting 
sugar in my whiskey. It tastes better,” 


116 A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 

And he terminated the momentous discussion by 
handing a glass of liquor to Randolph, filling the 
spare pipe, pulling up the easy chair ; and with a glass 
of grog in one liand and pipe in the other, making 
himself as comfortable as possible. 

“ Ranse,” he said, after a lojig pause, “ What is 
there between you and Margie Dulany?” 

The meerschaum almost fell from the nerveless 
hand of the Virginian, as this sudden question came 
like a cannon-shot at his head. 

“ What — what did you say ? ” he stammered. 

“ What is there between you and Margie Dulany ? ” 

The question was repeated in clear and incisive 
tones, but the attitude was not in the least changed. 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked Randolph, flushing. , 

“ I mean that there is more between you than there 
should be.” 

Randolph sat up on his couch and looked at him 
with kindling wrath. 

“ By what right do you question me on that sub- 
ject?” 

“ I will not answer that question until you repeat 
it ; for I would prefer not to do so. I have a good 
right and the best of intentions. Again I ask, what 
is there between you ? ” 

“And again I ask by what right do you catechize 
me on a matter which does not in the least concern 
you ? ” 

“ I might answer by the right of long friendship 
for a woman deprived now, by no fault of her own, 
of her natural protector. I might say by the right 
that every honorable man has to step in before it 


117 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

is too late to save a woman’s virtue — if it be not too 
late. But I prefer to answer simply that mj fiancee 
is here under her chaperon age and I have the right to 
withdraw her from the charge of an objectionable 
woman.” 

“Be careful what you say, Wick Breckenridge. I 
know you and you know me. I will permit much 
from a friend, but by Heaven ! I am‘ not coward 
enough to sit by and hear such an aspersion cast on 
the woman I ” 

“ The woman you love ! Of course you are no cow- 
ard. We were together in too many hot skirmishes 
for me to doubt your courage. But physical courage is, 
after all, the cheapest of the virtues. More than a mil- 
lion men gave proof of its possession during our war, 
and you will find traces of it in the very brutes. No ; 
you are no physical coward; but morally — there’s 
the rub.” 

“ I fail to understand you. Captain Breckenridge.” 

“Then I will make myself clearly understood. 
You have been in love with Margie Dulany for 
months, perhaps for years. Something transpired 
between you in Louisville ; but not much, or you 
would not so soon have gone home. You follow her to 
Florida. There the news of a great mortification, a 
great disgrace, if you will, comes upon her, wounding 
her in her most sensitive point, her pride. You are near 
and take advantage of the prostration which the news 
throws her in. You ply the seducer’s arts, with what 
success you best know ; for you have been her shadow 
for three months and more. Last night I surprised 
you in almost an equivocal position. Can I allow 


118 


A Blue-Crrass Thoi'ouyhhred. 


my fiancee to remain under such chaperonage ? 
What good will your resentment of this talk do? 
You know in your heart I am doing just what any 
other man would do, and a row on such a subject 
would make public that which is only suspected.” 

“ Suspected ! do you mean ? — ” 

“ That such persistent attention can only bring 
one result eventually. Whispers are now beginning 
which will soon become clamorous assertions.” 

“ Good Heaven ! I did not know — I did not think — ” 
“ That people would use their eyes, and form their 
own impressions ? You have been living in a fool’s 
paradise ; it is time,for you to wake up.” 

“ But what must we do ? What must I do ? ” 

“ Make the only reparation a man of honor can 
make to a woman he has betrayed — marry her.” 

But I am a Catholic ! My religion does not per- 
mit me to marry a divorcee.” 

“Did it permit you to wrong her? But enough of 
that! Your scruples will not be outraged. Peyton 
Dulany is dead.” 

“ Dead ! My God ! How do you know ? ” 

“ A Canadian paper brings the news. Here it is I ” 
“ There seems to be no doubt about it,” remarked 
Randolph, as he read the entire account. “ Of course 
the hand of Tarleton Mayhew shows through the 
whole matter. He has had his revenge.” 

“ And what do you propose doing ? ” 

Randolph shifted uneasily and hesitated. 

“ I — I don’t know.” 

“ Ransom Randolph, a moment ago you asked me 
by what right I interfered in this matter. I did not 


119 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

give you the strongest right — the right of a friend 
of twenty years standing, who has stood shoulder to 
shoulder with you in danger and trouble ; who helped 
you in your great trial, and who has watched over 
and loved you as a brother. You referred to your 
physical courage just now ; but if you could allow 
yourself to desert the woman who has trusted you 
too far at this time, after having tarnished her fair 
name, you are worse than the veriest skulker that 
ever hid from the enemy’s front. Don’t answer 
me now, for you must not decide hastily ; but remem- 
ber that your refusal means that Natalie must know 
all, and that if she drops Mrs. Dulany at this time, 
she is hopelessly disgraced. Good-bye, old chap! 
Answer me to-morrow.” 

And more moved than he cared to show, the stal- 
wart ex-soldier swung himself out of the room and 
into the street. He was walking aimlessly, but he 
mechanically took his way to his room at the hotel. 

Arriving there he found a poorly-dressed negro, who 
had been awaiting him some minutes. 

“ Dis Cap’ll Breck’ridge ? ” he asked. 

“Yes. What can I do for you?” 

“ Why, Eph, he sent me. He say he want to see 
you, please sah, mighty bad.” 

“ Who’s Eph ? ” 

“ I dunno, sah. He say he used to b’long to you’ 
fadder. Wu’ked in de dinin’ room ’fo’ de wah ? ” 

“We did have such a servant. What sort of a 
man is he ? ” 

“ Old niggah, white hair ; all twisted up wid. rheu- 
matiz.” 


120 


A Blue- Grass Tliorouyhhred. 


“ What does he want with me? ” 

“ He said he seed yon, day ’fo’ yistiddy on the street 
and he ’lowed ef you knowed de trouble he’s in, you 
might holp him.” 

“ I’ll do what I can to help one of our old slaves. 
What’s his trouble ? ” 

“ I don’t des ’zactly know, sah. He thought maybe 
you might come ’long o’ me an’ see him. He’s 
hidin’.” 

“ Hiding ? What for, and from whom ? ” 

“ From de police. He cut a man, I b’lieve. He 
says ef he could get a lawyer he’d be out o’ trouble, 
but he’s too poo’.” 

“ Oh, well, I guess I had better go with you and 
see what can be done for him. Is it far ? ” 

“ Des over in Spanish town.” 

“Very well, come along,” said the captain. 

The answers to his questions had been so read}'- 
that he had little doubt that one of his father’s ex- 
slaves had gotten into a scrape and had turned to 
him as naturally as if he still had the right to expect 
protection. It was a longer walk than he had antici- 
pated, taking him deep into the heart of the old 
Spanish settlement. At last, however, they reached 
an adobe building, a little dingier than the rest, with 
a single narrow low door entering it. 

“ I got ter go ’head ter let Eph know you’s com- 
min’. Might be somebody wid ’im as don’t want ter 
be seed. . When I w’istles you des come in dat do’. 
Shut it bellin’ you and walk towards de light.” 

The captain did not altogether relish the turn mat- 
ters were taking, but he was of too adventurous a 


121 


A Ulue^ Grrass Thoroughbred, 

disposition not to go on, especially as to refuse might 
seem cowardly. So he nodded, and the negro dis- 
appeared. Ill about five minutes a short whistle 
sounded and he entered the door as indicated, findins* 
himself in a narrow passage-way, at one end of which 
a dim light gleamed fitfully. 

He was making his way slowly towards this, when 
a heavy cloak was suddenly thrown over his head, 
pinioning his arms, blinding and half suffocating him. 
A few desperate efforts showed him that all attempts 
at freeing himself were useless, and he ceased to 
struggle, reserving his strength for future emergency. 
So when two pairs of nervous hands forced his arms 
behind his back and tied them, he was strangely 
quiescent. 

This accomplished, he was pushed forward, still 
unresisting, until he heard the sound of a door clos- 
ing and being barred behind him. He was thrust 
into a chair, and with a new turn of the ropes, his wrists 
were tied to the back. Not till then was the cloak 
withdrawn, and he saw by whom he had been cap- 
tured. 

The captain had been addicted to athletic sports all 
his life, especially enjoying club-swinging and fenc- 
ing. Constant practice had aided a natural pecu- 
liarity, until he had a very muscular physical develop- 
ment. His long, sinewy, but quite narrow hands were 
attached to bony, muscular, well developed wrists, 
that measured more in circumference than the hand. 
It was a common feat with him to tie a cord around 
his wrist and slip it over his hand. It was for this 
reason that he had allowed himself to be tied without 


122 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

a struggle. As he found himself with his back from 
his captors, he quietly set to work to release himself 
without his movement being suspected, glancing 
around meanwhile. 

He found himself in a squalid, ill-furnished room, 
with low ceilings and stained walls. Around a heavy 
table four men, all negroes, of forbidding counte- 
nance, were seated. Among them, he recognized his 
guide and Gibson, the man who had attempted his 
life in Louisville. Tlie slight form of the jockey was 
clothed ill far coarser attire than he had worn before 
his disgrace ; the peaked face was lined witli dissipa- 
tion, and the eyes bloodshot and rolling now with 
gratified malice. 

“ Got you dis time, Cap’n ” he grinned. “ Gwine 
to get squar, fore you gits away from me dis time. 
Ain’t got no Yankee ball-player to protect you. 
Bottom rail’s on top now, fo’ suah.” 

“ Wliat will you take to let me out of this ? ’’ asked 
the captain quietly, as he, unobserved by the others, 
dropped the last rope from his wrist, leaving him as 
free as any other occupant of the room. 

“ Take plenty ; take all we can git and dats a 
heap, but gwine take som ’n’ else fuss ! Gwine to do 
dis and dis.” 

And the impudent jockey coolly walked across to 
where the prisoner was seated and deliberately slapped 
his face, first with one hand and then with the other. 

Only a Southerner, born with fixed ideas of race 
superiority, could appreciate Captain Breckenridge’s 
sensations at that moment. 

For an instant he was paralyzed, blinded with 


128 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

rage ! Then the blood surged into his temples, every- 
thing turned red in his vision and he was practically 
a maniac. He leaped to his feet, seized the aston- 
ished jockey by the throat, shook him as he would 
have shaken a rat, and holding him suspended in the 
air, broke his back o ver the chair he had been sitting 
upon. 

He might doubtless have taken advantage of the 
confusion and surprise, of the others to escape, but 
he was beside himself. He sprang forward, seized 
the heavy table, and upsetting it, wrenched one of its 
legs off. Using the leg as a club, he made an 
onslaught so savage as to put the three men to 
flight. They soon rallied, however, drawing knives 
and razors, and a bloody struggle ensued. 

The enormous natural strength of the Kentuckian, 
aided as it was by his insane anger, enabled him to 
cope with the three ruffians on whose ignorant minds 
his great size and glaring eyes began to work, until 
one of them cried : 

“ Dat mus’ be the devil ! I done struck him four 
times wid dis knife and he done keer no more ’n if I 
hadn’t teched him ! ” 

The others accepted the idea at once, and unbar- 
ring and flinging open the door, escaped into tlie 
street and disappeared in adjoining rookeries. 

Exhausted from his great exertions, his clothing 
torn and disarranged by his struggle, bleeding from 
a dozen wounds, Wicklyffe Breckenridge followed 
them. But as he approached the last door of exit, 
his strength began to fail him, he staggered through 
it and fell into the arms of a passing policeman. 


124 


A Blue- Crr ass Thoroughbreds 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Heloise found her strategy worked to a charm. 
Duncan saw himself so tljoroughly snubbed and 
pi^put aside that he was glad enough to seek consola- 
tion in Jean’s company. Indeed it was not a great while 
before the star of his affection for her, which had 
somewhat paled beside the comet of his infatuation for 
Heloise, began to shine with its former steady light. 

Frank, after having his eyes opened, as he thought, 
to the real state of affairs about the house, and feeling 
that he had been too harsh in his former judgment, 
devoted himself to Heloise. Nor did he find it a 
severe task, for she exerted herself to please as she 
never had before, and fairly dazzled him with her 
sparkling vivacity. 

Jean, completely deceived by Heloise’s confidence 
on that never-to-be-forgotten night and the subsequent 
good understanding which seemed suddenly to have 
arisen between Frank and her guest, accepted the situa- 
tion meekly, and if her gentle breast felt any pain, she 
gave no evidence outwardly of it. She placidly set 
about the task Heloise had given her, of entertaining 
Duncan, with amiable obedience. 

And Heloise — well, she was intoxicated with the 
success of her stratagem. She was fairly wild with 
exuberance of spirits, planning all sorts of excursions. 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


125 


taking the lead in every project which could afford an 
excuse for keeping the four together — for, of course, 
it was essential that Frank should see the other two 
in each other’s society as much as possible — and par- 
ticipating in all things with an abandon, a radiant 
gayety that bewildered and fascinated Frank. 

But she knew she could not keep this up forever. 
Her stay had already been prolonged beyond the 
time originally set and whilst everything was going 
just as she wanted it, she was too shrewd a girl not 
to know that her plans might at any moment be up- 
set by some trivial incident bringing about explana- 
tions. And she further knew that, if Frank detected 
her again in double dealing, she must give him up 
forever. 

With all the wild intensity of her nature she loved 
him. She had been interested in him when they first 
met, and piqued with him for so readily leaving 
her. Her pursuit of him had originated more from 
that pique than any other cause. She had determined 
to bring him again to her feet and then taste the 
sweet revenge of refusing him with scornful em- 
phasis. But she had been playing with edged-tools. 
The trap she had set for another she had herself 
fallen into, and now realized how her whole life’s hap- 
piness lay in his hands, and that without him she 
would be unendurably miserable. 

When she awoke to this fact, with the usual im- 
petuosity and decision which characterized her, 
she resolved that she could not go home without 
being his affianced wife, and set her busy little brain 
at work to accomplish that end. 


126 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 


These thoughts had come to her at the time when 
she dropped the mask she wore to the outer world 
and secure in her ciiamber at night, indulged in intro- 
spection with a degree of frank cynicism quite re- 
freshing in one apparently so volatile. 

Tlie following day she contrived to be found by 
Frank alone in the roomy parlor. A bright fire — 
for the weather was getting chilly — danced and flick- 
ered in the grate, casting its ruddy glow over the sub- 
stantial and comfortable furniture of the room, and 
adding no little to the cheeriness already given by 
the large windows and streaming sunlight. 

Heloise had assumed a pose of most graceful de- 
jection, and with her face resting on one of her deli- 
cately formed hands, seemed buried in thought, gaz- 
ing into the fire-light abstractedly. So profound was 
this reverie that lie entered and stood looking at her for 
some time, apparently unseen. 

As he gazed, two large pearly tears started from 
her eyes and traversed her peachy cheeks unheeded. 
The sight of them touched a spot in Frank’s nature 
that had never before been moved. All his big heart 
was stirred in sympathy. 

“ Miss Churchill — Ileloise, what distresses you ? ” 
he exclaimed, coming hastily forward and taking the 
unoccupied hand in his with a pressure that was a 
little more than friendly. 

With a violent start she seemed to come to herself, 
and hastily brushing the tears away, returned his 
greeting with a forced laugh, very different from her 
usual ringing ebullition of gayet3^ 

“ I — I don’t know 1 How do you do, Mr. Manly ? 


127 


A Blue- Crr ass Thoroughbred. 

You came in so unexpectedly that I did not hear you. 
I was thinking — I beg your pardon, what did you ask 
me ? ” She never looked better than when standing 
with flushed cheeks and embarrassed mien, she stam- 
mered and hesitated, apparently completely unnerved. 

“ I asked what was distressing you ? I beg your 
pardon, however, for I do not wish to add to your 
distress by recalling the painful theme.” 

“ Oh, it is nothing. I must be going home soon 
and I was just thinking how kind you all had been to 
me and what a nice time we have had. Jean is com- 
ing down to visit me soon, and I must try to make 
her stay as pleasant as possible. But I can never 
make hers so delightful as mine has been.” 

“ And the recollection of the nice time you have 
had and anticipation of nicer times ahead, caused 
those two priceless pearls to be wasted to the world ? 
Do you always cry when you think of such subjects ? ” 

His words were commonplace, almost trifling ; but 
there was a note of deep sympathy in his clear voice 
and a shade of tenderness on his open face — which 
reflected every emotion of his soul — that showed he 
was more in earnest than his words would imply. 

“ Cry ? I was not crying. At least I don’t think 
I was. Was I ? ” 

“ You most certainly were. ” 

“ Well, of course I am sorry to leave this dear old 
place where all have been so good to me. The Mac- 
Donalds are so hospitable, and Jean, oh, yes ! I am 
grieving because I am going to leave Jean and — and 
the rest of them. ” 


128 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

“And though Jean is coming to see you in a little 
while, you are afflicted at leaving her ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! that is — ^yes, of course ! Oh Mr. Manly ! 
it is cruel of ^''ou to so cross-question me.” And she 
stifled a half-sob and turned her glorious eyes, all 
swimming in tears, full upon him. 

“ It is cruel and I most humbly apologize. But 
Miss Churchill, can I hope that among your regrets 
for friends left behind, I may claim a share of your 
thoughts ? That any memory of the pleasant times we 
have passed in the last few weeks will linger pleas- 
antly in your mind ? ” 

“ How can you ask ? The brightest, sweetest 
moments of my life have been when, in a party or 
alone together, we have passed — Oh ! what am I 
saying?” 

“ If you are saying what you mean, you are giving 
me courage to say that which has long been on 
my mind, which has indeed been my thought by 
day, my dream at night. Miss Churchill, — may I say 
Heloise? — if the honest, true, enduring affection of a 
man’s whole heart, if the entire devotion of a life can 
be any reason why you should think favorably of 
him, that affection, that devotion I offer you. I 
don’t do things by halves, and when I say I lay my 
heart at your feet, and place my wliole life at your 
disposal, I mean every word of it. Heloise, my own 
heart’s darling, may I hope some day to win you — 
some day that you will consent to become my own 
little wife ? ” 

His manner was very earnest now, as he retained 
the little hand he had taken at the commencement 
of his speech. 


129 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

The hand fluttered a moment, but lay at last un- 
resistingly in his strong clasp. Gently he drew her 
to him and placed his arm about her waist. A great 
hope sprang up in his breast and gleamed from his 
eyes. 

“ Heloise, my darling, do you consent? Do you 
love me ? ” 

And the scheming little head with its piquant 
face, sank softly on his shoulder and her voice deep 
with genuine emotion now, murmured softly in his ear. 

“ Oh, Frank, you know I do ! ” 

And as the nervous arms clasped her firmly in 
their embrace, drawing her closer to his bosom, 
Heloise Churchill felt that she had never known true 
happiness, or dreamed what it could be before. 

Long they sat and talked as lovers only can talk, 
saying the same thing over and over again, varying 
at times, perhaps, the language, but returning always 
to the same idea. And as the clear pure voice of 
Jean in the adjoining room, came floating in, singing 
one of her newest songs, the words seemed singularly 
appropriate. 

“ Thy daily question, love, is, Lovest thou me ? 

The same reply I give thee ever ; 

I love thee dear, so tenderly ! 

Wilt thou believe me never ? 

She sang, as she approached the door, perhaps with 
a shrewd suspicion that it would be only fair to give 
warning before opening it too suddenly. 

‘‘‘ How do you do, Mr. Manly ? ’’ she said, extend- 
ing her hand. “You will take tea with us, of course. 


130 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

“Well, I have a partial engagement, but — ” 

“ Oh ! this is Heloise’s last night with us. You 
must not allow her to be entirely deserted.’’ 

“Well, since you put it that way, I will break the 
other engagement.” 

“ Oh, I am so glad ! ” 

“You will excuse me whilst I make a few prepara- 
tions for tea ? ” asked Heloise, as she arose and left 
the room. 

Once out of the room she flew to her own apart- 
ment, where she struck an attitude that would have 
done credit to Rachel, and in a ringing voice, cried: 

“ lo., triumphed 

After which she executed a regular old fashioned 
“Juba” break-down, which one of the negroes had 
taught her, and finished the performance with one of 
her monologues, addressed to her image in the 
mirror : 

“And thus, you see, my dear Miss Churchill, that 
your perfect candor, your absolute and unshrinking 
veracity, have brought their own reward ! You good, 
sweet, amiable, little girl, run along now and get 
ready to take your supper with your fiance. Do you 
hear that — ^your fiancSf But before going, let 
me tell you a great secret, one that may be of value 
to you in future years. No matter how cold, how 
forbidding, how heartless a man is, let him see a tear 
in a woman’s eye, brought there by love for him, and 
you’ve got him, you have undoubtedly got him.” 

And sweeping a farewell courtesy, the madcap 
danced downstairs, whei’e she soon had the entire 
family in roars of laughter at her queer sayings. 


A Blue- G r ass Thorouyhhred. 


131 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

For some hours after the departure of Captain 
Breckenridge, Ransom Randolph sat in deep thought. 
The frown which had corrugated his brow at first, 
gradually faded, and a softer, more tender look came 
into his eyes. 

“Dear old Wick ! ” he murmured, “He’s always 
right. He speaks so straight at a fellow that he riles 
him sometimes, but his is always the true view of any 
question of honor. I will do just as he says and I 
will do it before I talk with him again. I’ll see 
Margie at once.” 

He rapidly changed his dressing gown and slippers 
for a more suitable attire, and descending the stairs, 
knocked at the door of the apartments occupied by 
the ladies. “ Come in ! ” said a voice in response. 
“ Oh, it’s you ! Well, come in very quietly, for Natalie 
is completely fagged out and wants to sleep. She 
has just dozed off, so don’t awaken her.’' 

He came in quietly, and pressed a soft kiss upon 
her responsive lips. 

“ Close the door, so as not to awaken her,” he said. 

“ But she may think it strange, should she be 
aroused.” 

“ Never mind ; we must risk that. I have much 
to say to .you.” 


132 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

“ Why, Ransom, what makes you so grave ? ” she 
said, for the first time seeing his face. “ What has 
happened ? Nothing new— no fresh misfortune ? ” 

“ No, darling, no fresh misfortune ; but I have news 
of the greatest importance, and much that I wish to 
say to you. It most assuredly is not had news, 
sweetheart,” he added, reassuringly, as he saw the 
frightened look in her face. 

O 

“ Then, what is it ? Don’t keep me in suspense so 
long.” 

“ Once before I kept you in suspense ; once before 
I begged you to be brave. Now, are your nerves 
braced ? ” 

“ Yes ! yes ! Go on, do ! ” 

“ Peyton Dulany, your husband, is dead.” 

“ Dead ? How ? Where ? ” 

“ The details would be a useless horror to you. He 
is dead. A violent death.” 

“ Caused by some one ? ” 

“ It is so suspected. The author of his taking off 
is not known. Every one has his theory, and I have 
mine ; but no one knows positively just how it came 
about. He was found dead and thoroughly identified.” 

“ It is shameful for me to speak so, but for years 
I endured his infidelities, his carefully planned 
slights, more cruel than blows or abuse. I have 
been practically exiled from my home, ashamed to 
face the sympathetic pretences of the world, where 
once I was a leader. He has caused me so much suffer- 
ing, so much humiliation, so much pain, that I can 
only say : Thank God ! ” 

“I saw enough of his conduct to understand what 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 133 

a torment he made your life. But does not his death 
suggest any thoughts or plans to you ? ’’ 

“ No ; only a great sense of relief, so overpowering 
as to absorb other thoughts.” 

“ Have you, then, not contemplated a possibility 
of this happening — never dreamed of what might 
follow?” 

“ No. What do you mean ? ” 

“ Margie, I have never urged you to secure a di- 
vorce, partly because of my religious views on the 
subject, but more especially because I knew you 
to be heart-sick of the publicity of your affairs already, 
and that you shrank from adding to the scandal al- 
ready created. But now, my darling, you are free 
as I am. We can be married at once.” 

“ Married ! Oh, Ransom ! ” Many emotions arose 
to give emphasis to that word, as she buried her 
glowing face on his shoulder. 

“Yes, darling; and at once. I fear we may not 
have been as careful as we thought, and busy tongues 
have been bandying our names about already.” 

“ Is that true ? ” 

“ I fear it is. At all events, an instant marriage 
will save much trouble.” 

“ And cause much talk. Why, how could I explain 
to Natalie ? ” 

“ Do not attempt to explain. She may guess pretty 
close to the truth.” 

“ But the gossips ” 

“ Can say what they please. You will not re- 
turn to Louisville, but go with me abroad. After 
a few months, we can go to my home in Richmond, 


134 A Blue- Cir ass Tkoroughhredo 

where, as my wife, the few who may know something 
of the story will not dare to annoy you with refer- 
ence to it or the hateful past. We can begin again, 
darling, and in the full summer of life, perhaps, 
secui’e some of the fruits that were denied our earlier 
ventures. Do you consent ? ’’ 

“ Consent ? Oh, my noble, grand-souled darling ! 
You offer me hopes of happiness and of heaven that 
I never dreamed could come to me. Whenever you 
wish I am ready to go with you.” 

“ Then let it be to-morrow.” 

“ To-morrow ? ” 

“ Yes. It seems sudden, but the sooner the better. 
If you will prepare Miss Natalie, I will secure Wick. 
They will be sufficient witnesses and all the wedding 
party we need. We can discuss the means of making 
this public at our leisure.” 

“ Have it your own way,” she answered, and with 
a farewell kiss, he went to search for his friend, to 
tell him what he had done. 

He inquired at the hotel for him, but was told he 
was not in. A bar-room lounger standing near, see- 
ing a chance for a drink, drawled out in that slow 
manner supposed to be characteristic of all Southern- 
ers, but really only very perceptible in the less edu- 
cated classes : 

” I seed Cap’ll Brack'nridge goin down’ the street 
just now, over by Spanish town. He were in mighty 
cur’ os comp’ny, too, I tell ye.” 

“ Who was he with ? ” 

“Pete, the touter. ” 

“Who is he?” 


135 


A ]Slue“(xrass ThorougKhred, 

“Well, he’s one of these here no’count niggers. 
Touts hoss races in summer, an’ loafs around in 
winter. Ready to steal, ’r lie, yes, ’r cut a th’oat, f’r 
matter o’ that. He’s a powerful bad nigger, I tell 
ye, and he was heading right to’rds Spanish Tony’s 
cut-th’oat dive.” 

“ That’s strange ! I wonder what could have taken 
him there ? ” 

“ Well, ’taint my business, I reck’n, but Pete ’s the 
slickest nigger 1 ever see. I would’nt be s’prised ef 
he hadn’t been stringin’ the cap’n bout some poor 
devil that needed lielp and got him in Tony’s to 
rob him.” 

“ My God, man ! Do you know what you are 
saying ?” 

“You bet I do? Tony has the worst hole in this 
town an’ I know some right peart places too.” 

“ Do you really think the captain in any danger ? ” 

“ It’s mighty dry talkin’, stranger. ” 

“ Heh? oh ! Certainly. Won’t you have a drink ? ” 

“Well — since you mention’ it, I d’lio but I would 
take a leetle licker. ” 

“ Do you. think Captain Breckenridge in danger? ” 
asked Randolph again, after the loafer had taken 
enough whiskey to have paralyzed an ordinary man. 

“ Well, you see the man that downs Capt’n Breck- 
enridge is got to be a good man, and don’t you forgit 
it. But if they ’ve got any gum games, they won’t 
give him no show, d’ye see? They’ll creep up 
behind him and stick one of them thar machites in 
his back, ’fore he could say Jack Robinson.” 


136 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


“ Is Spanish Tony’s far from here? ” 

“ ’Bout mile, or maybe mile an’ a half.” 

“ Could you find time to show me the place?” 

“S’worth about fo’ bits for me to do it.” 

“ All right ! come along. How long since you 
saw him ? ” 

“ ’Bout half or three-quarters of an hour.” 

“ Well, the walk wont hurt me anyway. But we 
must not lose time.” 

“ I’m your man.” 

And with a brisker step than his shambling figure 
and bloated face would have promised, he showed the 
way out of the door and into the street. 

Twenty minutes brisk walking brought them to 
the neighborhood of Spanish Tony’s dive. A crowd 
of idlers, principally negroes, gathered about a fallen 
man, obstructed their wa3^ They pushed forward 
to see what the occasion of the assemblage was. 
“ Step back, gentlemen ! ” said a fine-looking police- 
man with a soldierly bearing.” “ Don’t crowd too 
closely.” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” asked Randolph. 

“Some fellow has been getting into trouble in 
Spanish Tony’s place. Pretty badly hurt, I reckon.” 

“Let me see him !” said Randolph, a great fear 
swelling his heart. 

He pushed hastily into the crowd and there, torn, 
dishevelled and bleeding from a dozen wounds and 
entirely unconscious, lay the object of his search. 

“ My God, it’s Wick ! ” he cried, bending over him. 

“ Do you know him ? ” asked the policeman. 


A Blue- Grasps Thoroughbred, 


137 


“ Know him ? I should say I do ! ” Take him to 
my room, Number — Carondelet Street, and get the 
two best doctors in town,” answered Randolph. 

The unconscious man was soon placed in a carriage 
and driven to the place indicated. 


13S 


A Blue-Cirass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Nathaniel PEGRAMsat at his desk, working hard, 
as usual. Natalie had been gone some two weeks, 
and the house had been very lonesome and desolate 
without her, for the stony heart of llie money-king 
had just one crevice into which his daughter had 
found away. Had she cringed to him as others did,^ 
or given any evidence of fear of him, or exhibited the 
“ womanish weakness ” he so utterly despised, he 
would have regarded her as a rather expensive, but 
necessary evil. But she had never feared or yielded 
to him. As a child he had been unable to break her 
stubborn will ; as a girl she was headstrong, and now, 
as a woman, fighting for her love, she not only defied 
but despised him. 

Every one else, everything else had bent liefore 
the force of liis inexorable will. He recognized the 
heredity of his own characteristic in his daughter, 
and admired and respected her for qualities 
which would liave caused the heart of some parents 
the keenest anxiety. 

He missed his daughter now, very much more than 
ever before ; but he resolutely devoted liimself to 
business, and in the complexities of commerce and 
Wall Street, sought diversion and recreation. He 
had just become one of a syndicate to purchase a large 
Southern railroad. The negotiations had been com- 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 139 

pleted, and Nathaniel Pegram had been elected 
president, with his headquarters in New York. It 
was through a large bundle of papers, pertaining to 
this road, that he was working his way, in a mole-like, 
dogged manner, when the young man who liad suc- 
ceeded Frank Manly, brought in a card. 

He glanced at it and read “ McAllister Browne.’' 

“ I will see him immediately.” 

A little, round, bald-headed man, wearing glasses, 
and with a blonde beard, turning gray, parted in the 
middle, and very much brushed out, came steaming 
into the room like a small tu<r. 

“ How do you do, Mr. Browne I Glad to see you. 
Take a chair. I am just looking over some of our 
papers now. What’s the news ? ” 

“ Lots of news. Big deal on hand. Chickahominy 
people want to compromise.” 

His words were like his actions, jerky and nervous, 
but full of energy. 

“ Chickahominy railroad ! Do you mean to say 
that the road we have been fighting so bitterly for 
months and which has met every move we have 
made with* one as good in return — the road that to- 
day prevents our practically controlling the South- 
east, wants to come to terms ? ” 

“ Just it. Our fight has depressed stock. Three 
of their directors bpught a control. Want to sell ! 
See ? ” 

“ Yes, I do see. News, indeed ! Can they be relied 

“Bring stock certificates or no sale. Want to 
buy?” 


140 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


“If their figures are at all reasonable, of course I 
do. By-the-way, leaving the question of terms aside, 
suppose we buy tins stock for our road. I mean let 
the railroad pay for it and use our money for outside 
purchase of the stock.” 

“ How about other stockholders ? ” 

“ They can’t object to an expenditure that will at 
once silence the most formidable opposition and give 
them strong feeders from every point in the South.” 

“ Better hold directors’ meeting.” 

“ I will call one for the earliest possible date. In 
the meantime of course the greatest secrecy must be 
maintained.” 

“ Of course ; nobody but you and I know it.” 

After some further talk, in which the terms of sale 
were discussed, the little man went puffing out the door. 

Fegram watched him as he went out and pushed 
the electric bell on his desk. 

“ J allies, I want you to take this order to my brokers 
with the utmost despatch. Every minute is precious. 
It is too important to send by other hands. You 
understand ? Greatest haste ! ” 

“ Certainly, sir.” 

In an incredibly short time the senior member of 
Fleece and Shearem was reading an order that caused 
his eyes to open to their widest extent. He looked 
at the paper and then at the bearer, recognized him 
as one of Pegram’s clerks; looked at the order again, 
gave a low prolonged whistle, and with a simple “ all 
right ” to the waiting clerk, stepped over to the stock 
exchange, where he was soon doing more business 
than any three men in the room. 


141 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

It was just before the “ noon call ” and business 
had slackened up a bit ; but on Shearem’s entry and 
vigorous bidding the greatest interest began to be 
shown. There are no keener set of men in the world 
than Avere gathered round, watcliing old Shearem as 
he bought block after block of the comparatively 
unknown stock. 

Every one suspected “ a deal ” was on ; but no one 
could tell what. Excitement was greatly increased 
by the rapid entrance of a young broker, known to be 
greatly in the confidence of McAllister Browne, who 
also began bidding on the stock. 

Suspicion now became a certainty, and soon all 
over the room offers were being made for the stock. 
Several with “ shorts ” out had to “ cover ” at heavy 
loss, and the stock jumped several points in so short 
a time that it absorbed the interest of the room to 
the exclusion of nearly all the others. And still old 
Shearem and his young rival bought all they could 
find for sale and at whatever price it was offered. 

Within ten days the directors’ meeting was held, 
the purchase of the controlling intei*est in Chicka- 
hominy, made known, aiid the public, eager to 
avail themselves of the expected rise, bought heavily. 
The price advanced sharply on the general demand, 
and Nathaniel Pegram gradually released his large 
holdings with a profit six figures would scarcely in- 
dicate. 

But the game was not so entirely in their hands as 
they had imagined. A disgruntled stockholder of the 
Chickahominy railroad had resuscitated an act of the 
Tennessee legislature some years back, which for- 


.142 A Blue- Grass Thorowjhhred. 

bade any railroad from holding more than one share 
of stock in any other railroad running to competing 
points. He immediately brought suit to prevent the 
consummation of the trade, and secured an injunc- 
tion restraining the president and directors of the 
rival road from disposing of tlie Chickahominy stock 
held in the name of the Kentucky railroad. This 
caused a revulsion in the market. Both the Chicka- 
hominy and Kentucky railroads were too little known 
for general investment, and were only valuable for. 
speculative purposes. There was consequently a 
“ heavy drop ” in prices of both stocks. 

It was in this emergency that Browne again sought 
Pegram. 

“ Bad state of affairs we’re in now ! ” said Browne. 

“ Oh ! I don’t know. Just as soon as this injunc- 
tion is dissolved we can transfer the stock to the in- 
dividual directors and resume control of both roads.” 

“ Three of us have a big scheme. Half of Chicka- 
hominy tied up by court. Street scared about affairs 
anyway. We propose selling a lot of it short, run the 
price down, buy to cover, and then buy enough long 
to cover. Easier to corner half the stock than the 
whole.” 

“Yes, but suppose somebody chooses to cover 
whilst you are selling short?” 

“We have possession of half the stock. Who 
knows where it is ? If they get us in a tight place, 
why, make deliveries from stock certificates held by 
order of court, and before the time to make delivery, 
we can buy them back again.” 


A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred, 143 

“ Oh, I see ! but that’s contempt of court, and con- 
tempt of a Federal court is serious business.” 

“ Of course, but the chance of detection is very 
small. In the first place, we can demoralize the 
market, so as not to need the certificates at all. In 
the second, they could be used and returned and no- 
body the wiser. You see the strength of our position 
is that we can make the available stock certificates 
either the full issue or half, as we choose.” 

“Yes, I see! but I am getting old and timid now. 
I don’t like the odor of the contempt of courts.” 

“ Well ? You won’t join us? ” 

“ No. I am too much afraid. Good scheme, too.” 

“We are strong enough as it is, but thought we 
would give you an option, as we seem to be pretty 
well in the same boat.” 

“ Many thanks, but I would rather not.” 

“ Very well, sorry you won’t join us. Good-bye,” 
and the pudgy little figure puffed out of the door, 
muttering as he did so : 

“ Pegram is losing his grip. To think that he, of 
all men, should let the fear of a court stand between 
him and a big deal.” 

The old man sat motionless and in profound silence 
for nearly an hour after his visitor had departed, and 
then a twinkle came into his eye, and the nearest ap- 
proach to a smile that his cold, stern countenance 
liad exhibited for years. 

“James,” he said, summoning his clerk, “I wish 
you would step around to Shearem and ask him if he 
can’t dine with me to-night. Tell him that no one 
else will be there, and that I have a matter to discuss 


144 A Bluc-G-rass Thoroughbred, 

'with him which cannot well be arranged elsewhere; 
one of some moment to both of us.” 

After such a message from such a source, it can be 
imagined that it was quite convenient for the wily 
old broker to accept the invitation. The two gray 
heads might have been seen close together in a mys- 
terious confabulation which lasted well into the 
night. 

The course of the Chickahominy stock was quite 
peculiar for the next three weeks. It sank a little 
under heavy selling orders, but always returned to 
nearly its normal figures, ranging from fifty to sixty 
per cent on par value. In vain did McAllister 
Browne and his syndicate fling huge blocks on the 
market. Steadily and quietly they were taken, 
though nobody seemed to be the especial champion 
of the stock. Finally, on comparing notes, they 
found they had a line of shorts out equal to the block 
of certificates held by themselves under injunction 
order from the Federal courts. Then they began to 
buy a little to feel the market, and discovered there 
was little or no stock for sale. The price began to 
shoot up. McAllister Browne was served at nearly 
the same time with a notification from his broker 
that delivery of stock sold had been demanded and 
a notification from the Federal court to produce the 
certificates of stock entrusted to his care, but which 
an injunction forbade his selling. 

For the first time a suspicion of the truth flashed 
on his mind. The stock had now begun to jump 
wildly, with none for sale. Fifty, sixty, seventy, 
ninety cents were bid and no sellers, A little inquiry 


jt 3lue^G-ra§s Thoroughbred. 145 

developed the fact that Nathaniel Pegram had 
cornered ” the market by buying more stock than 
was outstanding to deliver, and by a timely notice 
had prevented the handling of enjoined stock 

He held his four co-directors of the Kentucky 
railroad between his thumb and forefinger, and. 
squeezed them dry ! He finally sold them back their 
stock for two hundred and sixty per cent and 
pocketed nearly a million dollars ! 

The next meeting of the board of directors of the 
Kentucky railroad was a stormy one, and it ended 
in Nathaniel Pegram formally resigning as president 
and director. 


146 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XX. 

Heloise Churchill took her departure from the 
hospitable roof that had been the scene of her final 
triumph, and proceeded home. Frank followed in 
the course of a day or two, according to orders re- 
ceived from “head-quarters” and after spending one 
evening with his JiancSe^ braced himself up and 
“ bearded the lion in his den ; ” in other words, called 
upon Mr. Churchill, sire to the object of his adoration, 
in his law office down town. 

He was received kindly ; his suit prospered even 
beyond his hopes. He spent the morning in sweet 
commune with Heloise and took the afternoon train 
for Lexington. 

On the cars he met Charlie Duncan and a right 
warm greeting followed. After they had secured a 
seat in the smoker, and were comfortably established, 
Duncan blurted out : 

“ I say. Manly, how are you and our fair visitor 
getting along ? You are a sly dog ! Keeping your- 
self aloof for five or six weeks and then cutting right 
in, yes, and cutting me right out. 1 never dreamed 
you were looking that way at all. Thought I had a 
walk over, when at once a dark horse shoots to front 
and wins, hands down. How do you manage it ? ” 


147 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

“ Why, you Mormon ! what do you want with two ? 
Now that your affair with the hostess has been ar- 
ranged all straight, what in the world do you want 
with another? ” 

“ With the hostess ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Oh, come now, you commenced this chaff. Don't 
flare up about it.” 

“ I haven’t the faintest idea of ‘ flaring up ; ’ but I 
don’t understand you, just the same.” 

“ I mean the renewal of your engagement to Miss 
Jean.” 

“ My dear fellow, I never was engaged to Jean 
MacDonald, so it could not be renewed.” 

“ Are you serious ? ” 

“ I give you my word of honor that I am. I have 
always liked her and perhaps if I get enough encour- 
agement, I may ask her soon ; but up to this time I 
have never had the encouragement and dared not ven- 
ture without it. What made you think we were ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing. Common rumor, and your sudden 
devotion, I suppose.” 

Frank lapsed into silence, scarcely speaking until 
they reached Lexington. The man’s manner was so 
unembarrassed that he was forced to believe him, 
and yet he recalled distinctly that Heloise had spoken 
of it as something universally known. 

On the evening of the following day he called 
upon Jean. She was very cordial in her reception 
and after a few commonplaces, began to tease 
him, if her gentle badinage could be called teasing, 
about his visit and his sweetheart. 

“ I don’t think there is much room for you to 


148 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, j 

tease,” he said, “ since you are in the same boat, from 
all accounts.” 

“ I ? What do you mean ? or rather with whom 
do you mean, for, of course, I understand that much.” 

“ What ! when you know I was a witness to the ■ 
reunion of two loving hearts, you have the face to ; 
ask me with whom ? ” 

“ Oh, you mean Mr. Duncan ? ” 

“Of course. Did I not see how suddenly he 
devoted himself to you ? Couldn’t I put two and two 
together — that is to say — ^your former engagement 
and his sudden resumption of attentions ? ” 

“You have great perspicacity, j\lr. Manly, but you 
missed it that time. In the first place we never 
were engaged, and in the second place his renewed • 
devotions were simply because Heloise asked me — 
or rather ” — she broke off abruptly and resumed ; 
after a pause. “ Because I wanted to give a really - 
reunited couple a chance to come to a complete recon- 
ciliation.” 

Frank looked at her keenl}^ Her serene counte- " 
nance showed no sign of perturbation. She seemed to ? 
be speaking the truth, but — he would try again. 

“ Do you seriously tell me that you and Charlie 
Duncan were never engaged ? ” 

“ I pledge you my word that no serious words of 
love have ever passed between us. We never even 
had a mild flirtation. Why do you ask ?” 

“ Oh, I am surprised, that’s all I I thought his 
manner so devoted, you know I am certain ,, 
he must/(jeZ affection for you whether he speaks it or j 
not,” said Frank, getting out of it as best he could, t 


A Blue- Grass TliorougJibred, 149 

She repeated her assurance and he finished his 
call without further incident. 

But when Frank went home that night, it was to 
think long and sternly. The one thing he most 
abhorred was deception, and it looked as though he 
had been deceived. Many severe notes did he con- 
coct in his mind, and a few of them he wrote and 
destroyed. 

At last his resolution was taken. He would take 
the first opportunity and go to Louisville, and if he 
found she had deceived him he would break the 
engagement at once. 

Ah ! Frank, in that word “ if ” there is a confession 
of weakness you are not aware of ! At first it was 
a conviction, now it has become modified to an “ ifi’^ 


150 


A Blue- Crr ass Thoroughbred* 


CHAPTER XXL 

Tendehly the unconscious form of Captain Breck- 
enridge was carried into the room he had so re- 
cently left, his heart filled with noble impulses. 
Randolph had gone ahead to break the news to the 
ladies, and had found it no easy task. 

Mrs. Dulany, unstrung by the conflicting emotions 
of the day, had just finished acquainting Natalie 
with her projected marriage. It had been quite an 
effort to her, leaving her nervous system in a highly 
wrought condition. When she heard of the danger 
of the man she had known all her life, and who was 
one of her best friends, she would have broken down 
entirely but for Natalie. 

The first shock of the news had almost overpow* 
ered the latter, but on learning that life was still left 
in the poor wounded body, and that all hope had not 
been abandoned, her great strength of character 
asserted itself. Pausing only to offer a few consoling 
words to her friend, she turned the task of further 
consolation over to Randolph, and mounting the 
stairs, boldly entered the room where her lover was 
to lie. She took enth-e charge of the arrangements ; 
had the bed changed to a position where the surgeons 
could have access from either side, and ordered plenty 
of warm water and clean linen for bandages. Indeed, 


151 


A Blue- Grass Thorouglibred. 

it seemed that her whole nature was seeking relief in 
occupation. One gasping cry, as she reeled back 
from the blood-stained form of her lover when it was 
borne into the apartment, a sudden whitening of her 
cheeks, and she regained her self-command. She 
directed every movement herself, and soon saw him 
as comfortable as it was possible to make liim. 

The two surgeons arrived about the same time. 
Randolph explained the situation, and said the case 
looked so serious to him — and from his army experi- 
ence he could form some estimate — that he wanted a 
consultation at once. Assenting silently, they went 
to work at once to diagnose the case. 

Wick had many cuts in various parts of his power- 
ful body ; some serious, none necessarily fatal. The 
greatest cause of apprehension was from loss of blood, 
which had been excessive and which had weakened 
him dangerously. The wounds being dressed and 
the consultation held, the spokesman addressed Ran- 
dolph : 

It is entirely a question of nursing and natural 
recuperative power,” he said. “ In almost any other 
man I should say there had been too much blood 
lost ; but we have never seen a finer physique, and 
he may pull through. For the rest, good nursing is 
more essential than anything else.” 

“ That is my province,” said Natalie, firmly. 

Give me the directions, and I will see that they are 
carried out.” 

The surgeon looked at her for a moment, and read 
in a glance that here was the master-spirit, and from 
thenceforth it was to her that he addressed himself. 


152 A Btue^Crrass Thoroughbred, 

She listened quietly to his directions, neither losing 
a word nor forgetting one essential detail. 

Under her systematic and unremitting attention, 
Wick slowly regained his consciousness. He opened 
his gray eyes, undimmed by his great physical weak- 
ness, and fixed them with a long, lingering look of 
unutterable love upon the fair face bent over him. 
He attempted to raise himself, but she pushed him 
gently back on the pillow. 

“ You have been badly hurt, dear,” she said, in 
reply to a mute look of inquiry, “very badly hurt; 
but you will get well if you obey your nurse and 
don’t excite yourself. I am your nurse, you under- 
stand, and have been put in absolute command. 
Don’t even speak ” — and she laid her finger lightly 
on his lips. “ I’ll tell you all you want to know. 
You were found by Mr. Randolph, who heard of your 
going to that horrid place. He had you brought to 
his room, where you are now under charge of two of 
the best physicians in New Orleans and the best 
nurse in the world — that^s me,” she added, forcing a 
cheerful smile and adopting a tone she thought best 
calculated to divert and encourage him. 

His countenance cleared perceptibly He obeyed 
her meekly, and gradually sank into a calm, peaceful 
sleep. And so the surgeon found them, she sitting 
absolutely motionless, her steady eyes never moving 
from his haggard countenance, and he sleeping as 
quietly as an infant. 

For four days she left his bedside only when he 
slept, and then merely to take her meals, or to throw 
herself, dressed as she was, ready for any call, on a 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 15S 

lounge ill an adjoining room, to snatch a few hours’ 
rest. Day and night she watched and hung over his 
couch, until one morning the kindly old surgeon laid 
his hand on her head and said : 

“ My dear child you have conquered the enemy. 
The unfavorable symptoms have disappeared. His 
recovery is now a matter of time. Unless some- 
thing entirely new occurs he is entirely out of 
danger.” 

Then only did the brave soul falter. Then for the 
first time she broke down, and her overwrought 
nature asserted its femininity in a fit of weeping, so 
vehement and so hysterical that the physician was 
startled and alarmed. After a little, however, she 
quieted down, and retiring to her room, went to bed 
for the first time since the accident, and slept as she 
had never slept before. 


154 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XXIL 

The Kentucky railroad people were very sore over 
the manner in which they had been outwitted by 
Nathaniel Pegram, and many were the schemes the}" 
hatched to catch him. They succeeded once or wice 
ill thwarting some of his plans. Finally their per- 
sistent interference began to annoy him, and he 
resolved to strike back, “ Teach them another lesson,” 
as he phrased it. 

To this end he put on his thinking cap, and hav- 
ing become familiar with the business of the road 
when president, he knew just where to strike the 
most telling blows against it. Having concocted a 
plan which seemed to combine the two pleasing results 
of increasing his bank account, and, at the same time, 
punishing his enemies, he called on A. Corvus Jones, 
and found him seated in a palatial private office, glanc- 
ing leisurely over the morning paper, apparently the 
idlest man in the city. A large force of clerks in the 
outer office were kept busy enough, but Mr. Jones 
never seemed to be occupied, nor to have an idea 
beyond the passing moment. Pegram, however, 
knew him better than most men, though even he 
but partially, and was well aware that Jones was 
far from being the idle man he affected to be. 

Mr. Jones rose to receive his guest, displaying a 
figure which would attract attention in any crowd. 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 155 

He was nearly six feet five inches in height, and of a 
herculean build. His massive shoulders rose squarely 
on either side, and he had a habit of standing close to 
a man and looking down upon him from his superior 
height, like a huge vulture, watching for a chance 
to drop upon his victim from the summit of some in- 
accessible crag. The appositeness of this simile was 
intensified by the forward droop of the head, and the 
aquiline characteristics of his features. 

“ Ah, Mr. Pegram ! How are you ? What’s the 
news? Just reading a theatrical pamphlet that’s a 
scorcher, have you seen it ? ” 

“ I never go to theatres, nor take interest in things 
pertaining thereto.” 

“ Then you have missed more fun in your life than 
you will ever guess.” 

“ I dare say, but I want to talk to you about a 
business matter. I have a scheme to suggest to 
you.” 

‘‘ All right ; not doing a thing just at present. 
Awfully slow ! ” 

“ I wonder how many clerks you would work if 
you were busy ? ” 

“ Oh, those fellows ! Merely routine work, that’s 
all. What’s your scheme ? ” 

‘‘ I want to run a railroad through eastern — or 
rather east of central Kentucky, down South, and 
establish a trunk line.” 

Jones, who kept posted on the transactions of the 
stock exchange as thoroughly perhaps as any other 
operator in the street, smiled knowingly. 

“ Want to stop their annoyance and make ’em let 


156 A Blue-Crrass Tlioroiv^hhred, 

you alone, eli?” lie asked, with a good-humored 
smile. “ Well, you are not a man to lose money for 
spite. Let’s hear what your whole project involves.” 

Pegram took a bundle of papers from his capacious 
pocket, and soon the two were busy with maps, sta- 
tistics, estimates, and all those things which pertain 
to railroad building on paper. 

Jones had grown very quiet and lost his airy in- 
difference of manner. 

“Looks like a good scheme,” he said. “All it 
needs is local support. I like it well enough to join 
you in preliminary investigations, at any rate.” 

“ Well, that means a great deal, coming from you. 
The first thing to do is to get a charter through the 
Kentucky Legislature.” 

“Not much trouble about that, is there?” 

“ That depends on whether my former colleagues 
of the Kentucky railroad discover what’s up. It’s 
a pretty hard matter to get anything through that 
they oppose. I have known it done, but it is diffi- 
cult enough to be avoided, if possible.” 

“ I see. By-the-way, Legislature in session ? ” 

“Yes ; I believe so.” 

“Well, I am such an idle fellow, I won’t have 
anything to do for some time after eight days from 
now. I believe I will go and look at the blue-grass 
regions. I have not been there for some years, and I 
want to pick up a few horses whilst I am out there.” 

“Of course. A brilliant idea. If I were to go 
they would suspect some scheme and watch me too 
closely.” 

Having come to a good understanding, the two 


157 


A Blue-Grass Thorowjlihred. 

scheniers separated, with the agreement that Jones 
was to go upon his search for horses, on the first of 
the following week. 

This plan was carried out as agreed, but the corpo- 
ration they had to fight was lynx-eyed. The 
first move toward introducing the bill before the 
house, developed so vigorous an opposition as to 
demonstrate that the enemy was awake and prepared 
to fight to the bitter end. 

Jones was a man signally well qualified to conduct 
such a fight. W ith a most plausible manner and cordial 
off-hand bearing, he made friends readily, whilst his 
really logical brain enabled him to “put a point” 
with incisive clearness very convincing to his hearers. 

He had to contend against a trained opposition, 
however, and it was likely to be a drawn battle so far 
as forces were concerned. But as he wanted to do 
something that the opposition wished to prevent, a 
drawn battle would be equivalent to a defeat. 

In this emergency he took the cars for New York, 
and marched into Pegram’s office, almost unan- 
nounced. 

“ Hello ! Why, Jones, I thought you were at Frank- 
fort.” 

“ Just left. Came on for a consultation.” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” 

“ Everything is the matter. Our charter will be 
defeated on the final vote, if something isn’t done.” 

“ How much is needed ? ” asked Pegram, cynically. 

“ It isn’t money that’s needed. Money goes a 
great way, but the other side has as much as we 
have. Besides the Kentucky papers have taken the 


158 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


matter up, or rather the opposition has subsidized sev- 
eral of them, and they are raising the cry against foreign 
capital and bribery. Consequently, a number of men 
whom we might otherwise bring over to our side, 
dare not declare for us for fear of being suspected of 
accepting bribes by their constituents. Things look 
very blue, I can tell you.” 

“ But you have not given up the fight?” 

“ No sir ; nor will I until the final vote. But I want 
a consultation and I want some information, too.” 

“ About what ! ” 

“ The situation of affairs in a nut-shell is this : 
The opposition has succeeded in raising a cry of cor- 
ruption, as I said, until the members are afraid to 
help us. W e need the moral support of some man with 
brains enough to see the real advantages of our 
scheme and a reputation above aspersion ; a man 
who, it is known, cannot be bought and whose backing 
would give the politicians the courage of their convic- 
tions. I have found such a man. He listened, I 
thought, favorably, to the arguments I advanced, 
until I handed him a circular with the list of direc- 
tors. He took it, glanced at it, started suddenly 
and said, ‘ What you ask of me is impossible, sir,’ 
and declined to talk further on the subject. All the 
other directors are local men. I have seen every one 
of them and find he has no quarrel with any of them ; 
consequently it must be with you or me. His treat- 
ment of me satisfies me that I am not the one, conse- 
quently it must be you.” 

“ With me !” said Pegram, “ why, I don’t know 
a single person in Kentucky.” 


159 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

“ Well, that’s the way it looks. I wanted to know 
what the difficulty was, and if it he irreconcilable.” 

“ That's very strange. Who is the man ? ” 

Captain Wicklyffe Breckenridge, of Woodford.” 

A pistol fired in his face could not have startled 
Nathaniel Pegrain more. 

“ Captain Wicklyffe Breckenridge ! ” he repeated, 
in profound amazement. 

“ Yes. Do you know him ?” 

“ Why, he is a horse-jockey, a gambler, a follower 
of races.” 

“ You are as much mistaken as possible. He 
stands higher to-day than any man in his section. 
He could go to Congress any time he wants to, but 
won’t have it. He takes very little interest in poli- 
tics ; but when once aroused on a question of interest 
to either the State or his section of it, he is a perfect 
firebrand.” 

“And the success of our scheme depends on him? ” 

“Yes. You see our scheme will benefit his section 
of the country, but it is inimical to the interests of 
Louisville. The press of the latter are making such a 
howl that we must get some outside influence. With 
his high character, which his worst enemy dare not 
assail, he would be a tower of strength to us. Should 
he take it into his head to oppose us, he could defeat 
us easily. The fact that the road affects his section 
of the country directly, makes his admirers, and they 
are legion, anxious to hear his verdict.” 

“ What does he say ? ” 

“ Nothing as yet. He was badly hurt in New 
Orleans and has just returned. He seems very un- 


160 A Blue-Crrass Thoroughbred, 

decided and replies to all questions that he has been too 
ill to examine into the matter. The other side is mov- 
ing heaven and earth to influence him. Canyon tell 
me anything that would help me ? ’ 

“ Not now. I — I did have some trouble Avith him 
and fear I haA^e gained his enmity.” 

“ May I ask how? ” 

“ I dbn’t care to tell you, if you will pardon a 
seemingly impolite answer. I liad a different idea 
about him. Hoav can a horseman have such a stand- 
ing ? ” 

“ Why, my dear felloAV, you have some of the odd- 
est puritanical notions. A horseman simply means 
a man who raises and sells fine horses, occasionally 
racing them for the purpose of increasing their value. 
It is no Avorse than raising fine cattle and shoAving 
them at some agricultural fair for a prize.” 

“ But the betting that goes on ? ” 

“ Do 3 "OU really see any difference between betting 
on a horse-race and gambling on Wall Street?” 

“ It is an entirely different matter.” 

“ I confess the distinction is too subtle. When a 
man pays seventy-five for Chickahominy that he knows 
is not Avorth forty, he simply bets it will go up before 
it goes down. Margin speculation is gambling of 
the Avorst sort.” 

“ Yet you do it.” 

Yes, and I bet on horse-races. I don’t claim 
that either is a highly edifying transaction. But 
that is straying from the point. Can you in any 
way relieve yourself from Captain Breckenridge’s 
enmity ? ” 


161 


A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 

“ I don’t know,” answered Pegram slowly. 

“ Well if you can, you had better do it ; for I tell 
you squarely I have been all over the ground, and 
the only show you have of getting ahead of Browne 
and his colleagues is to secure the support of that 
same Captain Wicklyffe Breckenridge. I must be 
off now, but I will come to-morrow and see what you 
think about it. If you can placate him, I shall go 
back and tight it out, yes, and win it ; but if not, I am 
afraid I may find something here to keep me. Good- 
bye ! ” 

As the bulky form of his partner in the enterprise 
stalked out of the door, Nathaniel Pegram sank back 
in perplexed reverie. 

He was now satisfied that he had been too hasty 
in his treatment of the Kentuckian. His daughter’s 
continued absence, too, weighed on him, for she was 
evidently making every excuse to avoid coming home 
— to avoid him, in fact. Again he had gone into the 
plan to “teach Browne a lesson,” and a defeat, after 
so long a fight, would be humiliating in the extreme. 
All these reasons had great weight with him — 
almost enougli to decide him. But when he remem- 
bered how Breckenridge had braved and defied him, 
the color rose in his cheek and his obstinate chin 
grew squarer. 

But he was very much perplexed. 


162 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

The hard-headed old merchant continued to be 
very much puzzled throughout the remainder of the 
day, and the perplexed look did not leave his face 
as he entered his carriage and was driven home. 

It was about the dinner hour, and with a hasty ad- 
justment of his attire he walked abstractedly into the 
dining-room, and almost over his daughter. 

“Natalie! ” he exclaimed, surprised. 

“ Yes. How do you do, father? ” she said, giving 
him a cold kiss and taking her seat at the table in her 
accustomed place, without further comment. 

“ Have you had a pleasant trip ? he asked, at 
length. 

“ Very. One of the happiest of my life ! ” 

“ And yet you are home sooner than you expected.” 

“Yes, circumstances in the shape of a wedding 
took my chaperone abroad, and for the same reason 
given by the drunken husband in ‘ Punch,’ I have 
come home, namely, ‘ all the other places are shut up.’ ” 

“Natalie! Your tone is as unbecoming as your 
illustration is ill-timed.” 

“ Is it ? I’ll guard both better in future.” 

“ What the — the deuce do you mean by speaking 
and acting as you are doing ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Tired from my trip, I guess, and 
regretting the friends I have left.” 


163 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

Preferring them to your own home and father?” 

“Well, frankly, yes, I do.” 

“ Natalie ! What do you mean by speaking to me 
that way ? ” 

“I thought my language particularly plain and 
perspicuous.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that since you liave taken it into your 
head to thwart my life’s happiness for a mere whim, 
you can’t expect me to enjoy our tete-d-tetes as I 
might with a reasonable human being.” 

“ Do you mean to tell me to my face I am not a 
reasonable being ? ” 

“ Now look here, father. A man comes to see you 
whom everybody respects and speaks well of. He 
pays me the highest compliment a man can pay a 
woman, by asking of you permission to take me to his 
house and heart. Do you appreciate that compli- 
ment? Do you even treat him civilly? Not you! 
You fly into one of your insane rages, call him all 
sorts of names, and threaten to have him ejected from 
your ofiice. Months have passed, 3"our rage has had 
time to cool and you have had ample opportunity to 
And out the real truth about him. Knowing the 
truth about him as you do, or would, if you would 
only inquire ; and above all, knowing that he is the 
only man I ever met that I ever told you I wanted to 
marry, what have you done ? Have you sought him 
out and said to him as a man and a gentleman would, 
that you regretted your foolish temper ? Have you 
in any way shown any consideration for my feelings? 
Not a bit of it ! You have nursed your rage, encour- 


164 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

aged yourself in your wrong-headedness, until you 
cannot with justice complain if I do not feel the same 
toward you as formerly. In fact I can never really 
respect you until you have gone to that much injured, 
noble-hearted man and confessed your error.” 

Strong interest and perhaps a sense of justice were 
prompting Nathaniel Pegram to humble his stubborn 
pride. But this tirade had the very opposite effect. 
The truth in it, coming in such a way, stung him as 
nothing else would. 

“And have you finished your scolding? ” he asked, 
with a sneer. “Did your horse-jockey lover teach 
you to so far forget your womanhood and filial 
obedience as to so address your father? Then hear 
me. You shall never marry that man with my con- 
sent, and you know what to expect if you do without 
it!” 

“I do not need to have you repeat it. I never 
knew you to retract anything you ever said in my 
life, and the more in the wrong you are, the more 
determined you are in having your way.” 

“ Right or wrong you have my say ! ’ 

“Yes, and you have mine. You are making me 
hate and despise you.” 

“ Natalie ! ” 

“ Well?” 

“ Do not go too far or ” 

“ Or what ? lam getting reckless now and don’t 
much fear anything you do.” 

“ Or I might go to your lover with a little story.” 

Do so and you would probably save me much un- 
happiness by so doing. I know Wick Breckenridge 


165 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

too well not to feel sure that he would not blame me 
or make me feel that I was the least lowered in his 
eyes. It is only because I want to spare him the 
pain of knowing, that I hesitate at all. God knows 
I have been tempted often enough in the last two 
months to tell him and end it all.” 

“ You would not dare do that ! ” he exclaimed, 
paling slightly. 

“ I don’t know. I have some of your blind obsti- 
nacy and determination to carry one point at a time. 
If you drive me to it, I may do as I say.” 

“ Do so and you tell it to the world.” 

“ You would not — ” 

“ I most certainly would.” 

“ For your own sake you would be silent.” 

“ For my own sake ! I, a man nearly seventy years 
of age and many times a millionaire. What would the 
sneer of a few fools and flirts be to me ? I have but 
little left in this life to live for, and if you leave me 
I shall have nothing.” 

‘‘ Father, I do not want to leave you. I do not 
want to quarrel with you, but why do you oppose me 
in this the great love of my life ? The man is in every 
way worthy.” 

“ Bah ! a Southern fortune hunter.” 

“Now this is too much ! You will not let me love 
you. You reject my overtures toward a reconcillia- 
tion. You spoke, just now, of being alone in the 
world. Whose fault is that ? With your millions 
you could have done many deeds of kindness, many 
acts of charity that would have surrounded your old 
age with hosts'of friends and brought showers of bene- 


166 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

dictions from grateful humanity upon your head. 
But no ! money is your god ! you have followed the 
mighty dollar until you have become as hard and as 
unyielding as the metal of which it is composed. You 
have no friends that are not interested ones, and now 
you are turning the heart of your only living relative 
from love to hatred towards you.” 

“ Go to your room, girl ! I will not allow you to 
speak so to me. Before you go, however, understand 
once and for all that you shall never marry j^our 
jockey without my revealing all there is to tell to 
him and the world ! ” 

“ It is probably better that I should go and as the 
house is large enough, that we should meet as seldom 
as possible. I can take my meals in my own apart- 
ments hereafter, I suppose.” 

“ Yes ; and do so until you can learn to treat me 
with respect.” 

“ What is the use of treating you with respect 
when your unreasonable conduct has forfeited all I 
ever had for you ? ” 

And exercising the prerogative of her sex in having 
the last word, Natalie swept out of the room in as 
towering and unromantic a rage as a head-strong 
woman ever indulged in. It was not long before she 
realized that she had gone too far and said more than 
she intended to, but the same pride that prevented 
her father from acknowledging his error, prevented 
her from confessing, even to herself, that she was in 
any way in the wrong. 

Left to himself, her father finished liis dinner as 
best he might and spent his solitary evening in any- 


167 


A Blue- G-r ass Thoroughbred. 

thing but pleasing meditation. The consciousness 
that he had been unpardonably hasty and all wrong 
at the outset, so far from inspiring him with an idea 
of retracting his words, rather made him more obsti- 
nate, whilst the recollection of his recent stormy inter- 
view and the tirade of abuse heaped upon him by 
his daughter, re-awakened the fires of his anger and 
hatred for Breckenridge. 

This mood continued all through the evening and 
when the next day, A. Corvus Jones sent his card and 
speedily followed it in person, his resolution was 
taken. 

“Well, can you do anything that will change the 
condition of affairs in Kentucky ? ” asked the huge 
speculator. 

“No. I dont believe I could gain the good will 
of that horse-jockey if I were to try and I know that 
I would not if I could.” 

“Well, you know your own business I suppose. 
If things are as you seem to indicate between you, 
he will see his chance to knife you and will do it. 
It was a good scheme, but like many other, fails from 
some unforeseen combination.” ^ 

“You abandon it?” 

“ Most certainly. I am an idle man, but I can’t 
waste money as well as time fighting, when the odds 
are so much against me.” 

“ Do you mean to say that one man can frighten 
you like that ? ” 

“ When one man holds the balance of power like 
this, yes. The question is evenly divided and we 
want to obtain something. If the opposition were 


168 


A Blue- G-r ass Thorouglibred, 


attacking and we defending, it would be different; 
but they have the strength of position and strongest 
army too. To fight further would be folly.’’ 

“ Well, it must be abandoned. Fortunately it had 
not cost so very much.” 

“ Oh, no, the money spent amounts to but little. I 
don’t much like to look on the weeks wasted in fix- 
ing ’ the Legislature which after all wasn’t ‘ fixed.’ 
But we cannot always succeed. So let it go.” 


A J^lue- Grass Thoroughbred, 


169 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

It was several days before Frank Manly found an 
opportunity to visit Louisville, and in the meantime 
his thoughts were far from pleasant. He shrank 
from writing to Heloise on the subject. His letters, 
when he mentioned the matter, were so cold or so 
stern, or else so weak, that he destroyed them and 
wrote without alluding to it in any way. Finally, 
however, he found time, and taking the afternoon 
train went to Louisville. 

Together at last, Frank and Heloise indulged in 
the luxury of a lover-like greeting, and some time was 
passed in that pleasing occupation. 

Presently, however, the object of his visit intruded 
itself upon Frank’s mind. He turned suddenly and 
almost sternly, in his chair and looked her full in the 
face. 

“ Heloise, he said, with marked decision in his 
tone, “I met Charlie Duncan on the cars going home, 
the last time I was here.” 

His tone and bearing told Heloise that all was dis- 
covered, and her heart sank like a lump of lead. She 
was too good an actress to betray herself, however, 
so she simply said : 

Did you ? That must have made your trip 
shorter. Did he tell you any news ? ” 


170 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

“ Yes, unexpected news to me. He told me that 
he and Jean MacDonald are not engaged^” 

“ Is that so ! What broke it off ? ” 

“ He said that he never was engaged to her.” 

“ Well, that’s funny. Seems to have been a diver- 
gence of ideas between the two parties. He said he 
was not, Jean said she was. I wonder which knew 
best?” 

“ Jean told me she never was engaged or even had 
a flirtation with Charles Duncan.” 

His tone had now grown so stern that it would 
have been foolish not to have recognized the fact. 

Heloise changed her r61e and asked sarcastically : 

“And you tell me this in the tone of a mentor? 
Will you please say just what you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that there is an inconsistency between 
what you told me at Lexington and what the two 
parties most interested assert in the matter.” 

“ Ah, indeed, and you suspect me of having de- 
ceived you at that time ? ” 

“ I would like to have an explanation of the incon- 
sistency.” 

“ Ah, you would ! Well, suppose I become an in- 
terrogator first. You think I deceived you at that 
time?” 

“ I simply say, I would like to understand.” 

“ We’ll waive that ! Will you kindly tell me what 
object I could have had in doing so ? ” 

This home thrust staggered Frank completely. He 
could not answer; for the only reason she could have 
had was the one that he of all men could not openly 
speak of. 


171 


A. Blue~G-rass Thoroughbred, 

“ You think that for the sake of winning your 
good graces, I have stooped to lie. I suppose you 
will add that I followed you to your home and hunted 
you down, until at last I caught you. Your modesty, 
Mr. Manly, is onl}’* exceeded by your perspicacity.” 

“ Why, Heloise ! I never said, never dreamed of 
such a thing ! I just wanted to know how such a con- 
tradiction should come about.” 

“ And you come to me with an air of a grand 
seigneur and demand an explanation of me ! Do you 
recollect what it was I said ? ” 

You said that Jean told you she had been en- 
gaged to Charlie Duncan.” 

“ Exactly ! And Jean told you she was not. Now 
that means there were three chances given for a lie. 
Jean might have lied when she told you. I might 
have lied when I told you, and Jean might have 
lied when she told me.” 

“ Wlien she told you? ’ 

“ Yes, Charlie Duncan was attentive to me. She 
might have wanted his attentions and told me, so 
that I would not interfere with them. If that be so 
her scheme miscarried and she did not get the lover 
of her choice, after all.” 

“ But do you think Jean Macdonald would?” 

‘‘ Oh, no. I prefer to think that Heloise Churchill 
would manufacture a transparent lie for the sole and 
only purpose of securing a smile from Lord Manly.” 

“ Heloise, I see I have been hasty. You will un- 
derstand how I ” 

“ I will understand that when the issue between 
two women arose, in which one of them must have 


172 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

lied, you suspected the woman you professed to love. 
If your opinion of me is so low as that, I don’t see 
how you can have either love or respect for me. 
Here, take back your ring, since your love is not 
with it. I little dreamed when you gave it me 
that night in the old country house, where I was so 
happy, that in a few short weeks you would — would 
prove so — so — cruel — and — and — doubt — and — treat 
— me — as — as — ^you ha — a — a — ve.” And liaving 
bluffed him into complete silence, she proceeded to 
burst into a flood of tears, that were not all affected. 

This volley of tears completed the victory, and 
routed poor Frank, horse, foot, and dragoons. He fell 
on his knees before her, and implored her forgive- 
ness ; called himself a brute and coward, several 
choice varieties of idiots, fools, etc., and finished by 
swearing that nothing in the future could ever make 
him doubt her. No, not a shining angel coming down 
for the sole purpose of accusing her. 

She finally allowed him to console her and to steal 
an arm around her waist ; and at last she permitted 
him to kiss her, but she allowed it only ; she was 
still markedly cold. 

“ What is it, darling ? ” he asked, “ what more 
can I say ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing ! I suppose it’s natural.” 

“ What is natural? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t see what an engaged man wants to 
go visiting other girls for. But I suppose, man-like, 
tlie}^ must amuse themselves.” 

“But I found John Sound here when I came. 

“ He came to see me ; I did not seek him. Besides, 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 173 

a young lady in society is different. Receiving calls 
is part of her business.” 

“ And a young man of society ? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t want to think of you as that. You 
are too much of a man to be so wrapped up in society. 
Of course, there’s no harm in it ; but I don’t see why 
you want to go to see any girl, and especially the 
girl you were so attentive to when I came up last 
fall.” 

“And whom you cut completely out, eh? Well, 
my darling, it is very little to me, and if you don’t 
want me to, I will never visit at the MacDonald’s 
again.” 

Two round arms were about him like a flash, two 
warm lips were pressed to his ; and, completely rec- 
onciled, the happy lovers sat late into the night and 
indulged in the usual intellectual conversation com- 
mon to such occasions. 


174 


A Blue-6rrass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XXV. 

“ Oh, Ransom ! isn’t it perfectly lovely? ” 

“ It is, indeed. We have taken our journey round 
the world as one would take a dinner — the sweets 
for the last.” 

“But you forget; we still have San Francisco and 
the Rocky Mountains, Big Trees and so forth, after 
this.” 

“ Oh, they will be coffee and cigars, I suppose.” 

“A most ambiguous compliment.” 

“ Greater from my standpoint than yours, I dare 
say. But don’t let us lose this sight.” 

It was indeed worth looking at. An English 
steamer w^as just entering the bay of Yeddo, winding 
its way through the channel that enters the bay 
proper, and which was sufficiently narrow to allow 
objects on either bank to be distinctly seen. The 
low, one-story fishermen’s huts, built in straggling 
groups along the sloping shores, with their pic- 
turesque inmates passing in and out; the back- 
ground of abrupt declivities, covered with Oriental 
verdure, odd-looking trees, familiar enough in pic- 
tures, but strange to the sight as Nature’s products ; 
tall rank grass forcing itself eveiywhere, and here 
and there pools of stagnant water, covered with lotus 
flowers and peopled by storks, cranes, or wild geese. 


A Blue^ Grass Thoroughbred. 175 

gave the whole landscape more the appearance of an 
elaborate “stage set” to be used in a spectacular 
production than the actual handiwork of Nature. 

This sense of unreality remains with the traveler 
always in J apan. The costumes, customs, and people 
are so different from anything one finds elsewhere, 
that it is hard to believe these kindly, intellectual peo- 
ple really have been doing such absurd-looking things 
for centuries. Occasionally, it is true, the idea may 
arise that these intellectual people — for they most 
distinctly a.re that — may regard certain perfectly con- 
ventional procedures on one’s own part as highly ab- 
surd, but it passes away and one soon begins again 
to regard them as performers for his amusement. 

“ Oh, look there ! I have seen that picture on a 
dozen fans at least.” 

“ That picture,” was a view of Fuji-Yama, the 
most perfect mountain in the world, rising straight 
from a surrounding plateau, with no adjacent peaks, 
and almost geometrically conical. The summit of 
“ Fuji-Sama,” as the natives respectfully speak of 
their venerated mountain, was still snow-capped, and 
across the cone-shaped top a narrow band of clouds 
floated. And as they gazed, a flock of wild geese 
winged their graceful flight between the mountain 
top and their line of vision. 

“ You are right there, Mrs. Randolph,” said a tall, 
slender traveler near her. “ You have the two favorite 
subjects for Japanese artists of whatever calibre or 
whatever age. Fuji-Yama, with his night-cap on and 
the flight of wild geese, has been and will continue 
to be represented in all works of art, from fans up.” 


176 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


“ Ah, Captain Douglas, this is not your first view, 
is it?” 

“ No, nor my twentieth. I am a good deal of a 
nomad. Wander most of my time, but I always 
come back to the Land of the Rising Sun. I am too 
restless to stay long, but I must come back.” 

“ What makes you such a wanderer?” 

“ Oh, a hereditary tendency indulged until it has 
become a mastering passion. I never met but one 
man who excelled me ; but by Jove ! he made me seem 
like a domestic paragon.” 

“ Indeed ! who was he ? ” Margie asked, listlessly, 
more to keep up the conversation than anything 
else. 

“ A countryman of yours, by-the-by ; his name was 
Tarleton, George or Henry. I don’t remember his 
first name, but he was a good one to go and no mis- 
take. Why, just fancy ! I met him in Australia 
some six months ago and tried to keep up with him, 
sight-seeing ; but he wore me out in ten da3^s, and I 
am pretty good myself, let me tell you. Well, he 
left me and I wandered on up to Calcutta, when who 
should turn up but my American, who, in the mean- 
time, had ‘ done ’ the Caucasian Mountains and 
Thibet. Oh, he beats the world, I can assure you ! 
And the queer part of it is he never rests at night. 
On the go all day and hunts for a lark at night. If 
he can’t find one, he falls to reading all night some- 
times. Some one said the other day that he had 
never met a man so well posted on abstruse subjeds 
as that Kentuckian.” 

“ Kentuckian ? Is he from that State ? ” 


177 


A ^lue-Grrass Thoroughbred, 

“ Yes, I believe so. But he don’t talk much about 
himself. Awfully good company though when he 
has had enough absinthe.” 

“ A drunkard ? ” 

“No; for no matter how much he drinks, and he 
drinks a lot, it never seems to affect him. Just goes 
ahead with that queer tired smile on his face. Tells 
most excruciating stories and says things that you 
think about next day and find they were awfully 
funny, don’t you know ? But he never seems to think 
they are at all amusing. He’s a ruin lot, any way, 
but a good chap for all that.” 

They steamed slowly up the bay watching the 
beautiful landscape as it unfolded in a thousand 
picturesque variations, and the native fishermen in 
their sampans as they stood up and sculled along — 
in this, as in everything else, differing from anjThing 
hoine-like. 

“I say, Randolph, if you find time, drop around 
to the club. I am a member and will put youdowm. 
Just get in a ‘ jin-rick-sha ’ and say ^ go ban' to the 
coolie. He will take you there as fast as his legs 
will carry.” 

“ Thank you. I will avail myself of your invita- 
tion. I am anxious to see what sort of people live 
here, white as well as native.” 

“ You will find them a queer lot and, for that mat- 
ter, a jolly lot. They live, so isolated from the world 
that they allow their individual eccentricities full 
sway. You will meet some odd customers.” 

Several days passed in sight seeing. Margie did 
much shopping and Randolph availed himself of 


178 A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred, 

Douglas’s invitation to visit the club freely. It was 
at this place that he formed the acquaintance of a 
physician whose general information and social qual- 
ities rendered him a most pleasing companion. The 
two soon became warm friends, passing hours at a 
time over a game of chess, at which they were very 
evenly matched. 

“ By-the-way, I have one of the most interesting 
patients now that it was ever my fortune to attend,” 
said the doctor one day, as they sat at their favorite 
pastime. 

“ Indeed, who is he ? or perhaps, I should say ‘ she’, 
since you evince so much interest.’’ 

“Oh, no, she’s a he,” laughed the doctor, “a 
countryman of ours named Tarleton.” 

“George Tarleton?” 

“ Yes, do you know him ? ” 

“ Oh, no. I heard Douglas speak of him.” 

“ Every one who has met him remembers him.” 

“What is there so remarkable about him?” 

“To you or an unprofessional man, his brilliant if 
erratic mind, his conversational powers, his unflag- 
ging chase of pleasure in all its phases ; to me his 
diseased mental and physical condition.” 

“ He is insane, then ? ” 

“Not exactly that, but he has something on his 
mind which never lets him rest day or night.” 

“ Nahnie ! ” the last word was addressed to his 
“boy,” who stood bowing and sucking in his breath 
with a sharp sound, which is the manner indicating 
respect among the coolies. The servant advanced 
and handed the doctor a “chit,” or note, which, afrer 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 


179 


apologizing to his companion, he opened and read. 

“ Why, this is most extraordinary ! ” he exclaimed, 
“ You told me you did not know Tarleton.” 

“ Never saw him in my life. Why?” 

“ Read for yourself.” 

Randolph took the paper from the physician’s 
hand^ and with a puzzled look, which grew to be one 
of amazement, read ; 

- “ Dear Doctor : 

“ The time has finally come. I can’t last many 
hours and want to see you before it is all over. If 
you should happen to know of the whereabouts of 
Mr. Ransom Randolph and can find him in time, I 
would like to see him before I die. He would not re- 
fuse a dying man, even though the name be unfa- 
miliar. Attend to this matter for me, my friend ; it 
is probably the last favor I shall ask on earth.” 

Sincerely, 

Tarletok.” 

“ It is very strange,” muttered Randolph. 

“ Will you go ? ” 

“ Of course, only let me send a ‘ chit ’ to my wife 
to prevent her from being uneasy.” 

“ All right ! but lose no time. When a man in 
his fix does die, he usually takes very little time to do 
it in.” 

They were soon ready and were whirling along in 
“ rick-shas ” to the house where the sick man lay. 

They stopped in front of a J apanese house, situated 
on the side of the “ bluff,” mid dismounting, passed 


180 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

through a beautiful little bit of landscape garden and 
walked to the entrance ; where, after removing their 
shoes, according to the custom of the country, they 
pushed back the sliding door and entered, their shoe- 
less feet making no noise on the heavily matted 
floors. 

In a wide, breezy room, dressed in pajamas and 
lying on a rich “ f’trai ” lay the emaciated figure of a 
white man. His hair and beard were long and 
streaked with gray. Out of their deep caverns two 
burning eyes seemed to gleam and flicker like the 
phosphorescent light of a “ will-b-the-wisp.” 

Noiseless as their entrance had been, the sick man 
heard it ; for he turned at once. 

“ Ah, Doctor ! you are prompt. Who is that with 
you?” 

“ Mr. Randolph, as your note requested.” 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Randolph. You will par- 
don my not rising, of course, and excuse me if I ask 
you some questions.” 

“ Certainly. I am entirely at your service.” 

“ Are you the Mr. Randolph who visited Louisville 
in company with Captain Breckenridge last autumn ? ” 

“I am.” The Virginian suppressed all evidence 
of surprise, for the man was rapidly growing weak. 

“ Are you a friend of Captain Breckenridge ? ” 

“ Probably the closest friend he has.” 

“ That is enough. Wick Breckenridge never made 
a friend of a man who was unworthy of his confidence. 
I would trust his judgment in anything — I must 
trust it now. Doctor,” he said, turning to the phy- 
sician, “ I have something that I must say to this 


A Blue-Grrass Thoroughbred, 


181 


gentleman. Give me a stimulant, double strength, 
for my time is growing very short.” 

This was so apparent, that the other, without a 
word, complied. 

“ And now, my friend, leave us, won’t you ? and 
see that no one is within ear-shot ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Thank you. You have been a real friend to me.” 

He took the doctor’s hand in his, pressed it cor- 
dially and motioned for him to leave. The physician 
complied and Randolph was alone with this myste- 
rious American, of whom he had heard so much. 

“ I saw your arrival announced in the ‘ Japan 
Mail,’ and have prepared for this event, which I knew 
must come to pass.” 

“ Believe me, any service I can be to you, I shall 
most cheerfully perform. If you want your friends 
in Kentucky ” 

“ Neither to my friends in Kentucky, nor to any 
human being, save one, must my fate or my real 
name be known.” 

“ Your real name ! Is it not Tarleton, then ? ” 

“ That is only a part of it. I am Tarleton May- 
hew.” 

“ Tarleton Mayhew ! ” gasped Randolph. 

“ I see you remember my name which I hardly ex- 
pected. I went very little into social life during your 
visit and so did not meet you. But to the point. I 
want to ask you if you will forward these papers to 
the address indicated and add a note saying that you 
had seen me here dying, and that my last words and 
last thoughts were forgiveness and — and love — ” 


182 A Blue-G-razs Thoroughbred, 

The Virginian glanced at the address and read, 

“Alice Jones, 

El Paso, Texas.” 

“That also is an assumed name,” said the dying 
man. “ It is the address of my wife.” The words 
caine with a violent effort from his lips, accompanied 
by such a distortion of countenance that Randolph 
made a hasty motion of assistance ; but he was 
checked by a gesture. 

“ I have more to say. Do you know the story of 
my disgrace ? ” 

The Virginian nodded without speaking. 

“ That saves time. What do you know of the 
death of — that — man ? ” again a violent contortion 
crossed the face upon which death had already set 
his seal. 

“ I know that his dead body was found in an ob- 
scure cabin in the wilds of Canada and that the cause 
of his death was never known ! ” 

“ But did you suspect ? ” 

“ I had my own theory,” said Randolph, evasively. 

“ Did you suspect that I tracked him from place 
to place, having him at my mercy for weeks, and, 
rolling the delicious morsel of revenge under my 
tongue, playing with him as a cat does with a mouse, 
enjoying in contemplation a thousand times that 
which I had iDlaiined to do. Did you suspect that I 
drugged, bound and poisoned him? aye,” — his voice 
was raised and his manner excited, — “and stood by 
and saw him cringe and writhe in his agony ; jes, and 
taunted him with his treachery to me and his un- 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 183 

manly, cowardly fears ; saw him grovel at my feet, 
and whine and beg for mercy he could not hope 
for ? Did 3^ou suspect that ? ” 

“ My God ! how unutterably horrible ! And all 
this wandering, restless life and friendless death is 
the fruit of your remorse ? ” 

“ Remorse / NO ! ” — the voice was loud and firm 
now. ‘‘Remorse for killing a viper, a rattlesnake? 
No, a thousand times no ! It is the one source of 
comfort, the one oasis in the black despair of my life. 
The yells of that dying hyena have made sweetest 
music in my ears, and come back to me now, making 
my dying hour easier with the certainty of complete 
revenge.” 

“ What then has driven you to be an exile and a 
wanderer ? It could not have been fear of the law, 
for no pursuit was attempted, no real suspicion 
aroused.” 

The entire demeanor of the dying man changed. 

“ It was love^' he said, his face taking on a look of 
such abject despair that the tears involuntarily sprang 
into Randolph’s eyes. 

“ Love ! ” repeated the latter, surprised. 

“Yes, love for my wife. I loved her with all the 
ardor of rny nature. She never understood, or if 
she did, never valued it. She threw it away as 
lightly as she would a faded flower, but I worshipped 
her. She dragged a name that had descended to me 
untarnished for generations, through the mire. She 
trampled my heart under her feet, but I loved her, 
my God, how I loved her ! how I still love her ! Day 
and night her face is before me, her voice sounds in 


184 A Blue-G-rass Thoroughbred. 

my ears. I sleep to dream of her, and waking, find 
the mockery of the dream intensifies my agony. But 
I love her ! I love her ! Norah, my wife, Norah ! All 

is forgiven, forgotten, Norah, I 

He fell back on the mattings gasped once or twice, 
and the tempest-tossed soul found rest at last. 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


185 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Natalie Pegram felt herself growing more and 
more unhappy every day. Her position was becom- 
ing intolerable. She never saw her father now at all, 
and she knew the iron will, of which he was so 
proud, too well to imagine for a moment that he 
would yield. On the other hand she was separated 
from her lover in a way that bid fair to be perma- 
nent. Since she had nursed him back to life in New 
Orleans, he had seemed to belong to her. Somehow she 
was conscious of a different sort of feeling from that 
which she had entertained for him before that period. 

And so she sat and meditated, and worried and 
grew more and more unhappy. To people of her 
temperament, that state of mind is perilous as well as 
unbearable ; anything is preferable. And so one day 
she took a great resolution. She sat down and wrote 
a request for him to come and see her at her own 
home, setting an hour, however, when she knew her 
father would be at his office. 

Wicklyffe Breckenridge received this letter in his 
home, near Lexington, pretty much as a man might 
receive a legacy from some hitherto unknown rela- 
tive — with profound surprise and unbounded delight. 
He, too, had been suffering from a canker-worm at 
his heart-strings, for he realized how utterly useless 
life had become to him without Natalie. And though 


186 A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 

he refrained from distressing her by too many com- 
plaints, every line he wrote her showed his deso- 
lation. 

It may be imagined that he lost no time in comply- 
ing with her request, taking the very first train for 
New York, as she knew he would, and going imme- 
diately to her house at the hour indicated. 

Seated in a luxurious chair and dressed in a charm- 
ing tea gown, he found Natalie awaiting him. He 
noticed with anxiety her pale cheeks and hollow 
eyes, and as he fondly stroked the soft hair from her 
temjDles, asked rather tremulously after her health. 

“ Oh, I am very well,” she said, “ but worried and 
distressed. I have something to say to you which I 
do not like to say, which I would give worlds not to 
say, and it is wearing me out thinking about it.” 

“ Then, my darling Natalie, don’t say it,” said he, 
cheerfully. “ There is nothing you need to say to 
me. That which you do not choose to tell, I am con- 
tent not to know. Where my love goes, there goes 
my blind, unquestioning confidence.” 

“ I know, dear. I know perfectly well ; but I have 
a reason why I must tell you.” 

“And that is— ?” 

“ I will tell you my reason when I have told you 
the story. It is a very long, painful story. I scarce 
know how to begin.” 

“ Again I say, do not tell me, unless you think it 
best.” 

“I must tell you. You have been so trusting, so 
kind, so noble, I have treated you shamefully in not 
telling you sooner.” 


187 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 

“ Don’t let any such feelings ” . 

“ Hush ! ” she said, placing her finger on his lips. 
“ I must, I will say it ; so let me go on. But put your 
arm round me, dear, and let me feel its strong clasp 
encouraging me, for my task is a hard one.” 

He said no more, but took her in his great strong 
arms, and held her so all through her story. 

“ It is about my mother,” she said, making the 
strongest effort and commencing abruptly. “She 
was the daughter of an old sea captain in Massachu- 
setts. He made a great deal of money at whaling, 
and sent his daughter to New York to be educated. 
She was an innocent, unsuspecting country girl, who 
had never been away from lier mother’s apron string, 
and as guileless as a baby. After she had been in 
this city for a few months, she formed the acquaint- 
ance of a handsome stranger, and completely lost her 
heart to him. He found out all about her and her 
father’s great wealth, and as she was fascinated with 
him, he had no difficulty in persuading her to a 
secret wedding. Accordingly, she left her school on 
some plausible pretext, and she and Martin Stuy^ 
vesant were married in the presence of only two 
witnesses. Imagine her horror, two days later, on 
reading in the daily papers an account of a daring 
burglary and the capture of two criminals in the very 
act, for the name of one of the burglars was Martin 
Stuyvesant and the other one of the witnesses of her 
wedding. For weeks she was in torment, fearing he 
would announce his marriage in the hope of securing 
powerful assistance. But, much to her surprise, and 
greatly to her relief, he did not do, so, allowing him- 


188 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

self to be tried and convicted, without making an 
especial effort to save himself. He was sentenced to 
a long term in State Prison, and went at once to 
serve it, without application for a new trial or any of 
the last efforts that convicted criminals usually resort 
to. 

“ In the penitentiar}",” continued Natalie, drawing 
her breath quickly, “ his conduct was so exemplary 
that he was made a ‘ trusty,’ and given lighter and 
more agreeable work, which his superior education 
fitted him very well to do — some sort of clerical 
work, I believe. About this time the war of the 
Rebellion commenced, and the Governor began par- 
doning those of the convicts whose conduct had been 
exemplary and who would agree to immediately vol- 
unteer. Among the first to avail themselves of this 
opportunity were Martin Stuyvesant and his fellow 
criminal. They enlisted and were sent at once to 
the front on the eve of a great battle — I have forgot- 
ten which. Their regiment was in the hottest of the 
fight and suffered very severely. A long list of 
killed and wounded was published, and under the 
first heading appeared the names of the two convicts. 
My mother, who, after learning the true character of 
the man she had married, had long ago ceased to feel 
any sentiment save avemion for him, coupled always 
with the fear that he might claim her after his release 
from prison, experienced the profoundest sensation of 
relief. It was as though a millstone had been re- 
moved from her heart. Stuyvesant and his compan- 
ion dead, there were only two persons living who 
knew of her marriage, ti e clergyman who performed 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 189 

the ceremony, and a wild classmate of hers named 
Louise Montague. It was through this girl she had 
met Stuyvesant, and her influence over the unsophis- 
ticated country girl had mainly brought about the 
act of folly she committed. Trusting, therefore, to 
Miss Montague’s silence, which she could the more 
readily do as she was a Western girl and had gone, 
home, my mother determined to let the marriage re- 
main forever a secret. 

“ About this time,” continued Natalie, “my grand- 
father — her father — had some transactions of con- 
siderable moment with my father, in the course of 
which a friendship was formed between the two. 
My father became a welcome guest at the house, 
where, from talking business to the father, he soon 
changed to making love to the daughter. He was a 
young man of great force of character, steady .habits 
and was rapidly making a name in the commercial 
world. His suit met with my grandfather’s approval, 
and he urged his daughter to consider it favorably. 
Her imagination was pleased with the ardent wooing 
of a man whom she saw w’as already bending people 
to his will. She consented. They were married with 
great ceremony. Some ten years passed, during 
which they lived together with a reasonable amount 
of contentment. My father’s domineering temper, 
however, asserted itself everywhere, but more especial- 
ly at home. He made his wife fear, rather than love 
him ; but he was liberal to her in a financial way, and 
if they did not live in perfect harmony, they at least 
kept from very serious quarrels. It v/as at this time 
that a stranger called at their home, sending up word 


190 A Blue‘Gra8s Thoroughbred* 

to my mother that he was an old friend of her 
college days. Imagine her liorror at confronting 
Martin Stuyvesant. He had not been killed, but 
in the thick of the fight had been knocked 
down by the wind of a passing cannon ball. 
On recovering lie found that the tide of battle -had 
swept on, and that he was in the enemy’s lines. 
Utterly unprincipled in all things, it made little 
difference to him which side he fought on, and he 
deserted to the Confederate army. In course of time 
he became thoroughly tired of the hard work and 
harder fighting that constituted a Southern soldier’s 
life, and watching his opportunity w'hen in Richmond, 
he one day shipped aboard a “ blockade runner,” and 
sailed in her for England. Her enterprise was suc- 
cessful, and Stuyvesant, a deserter from both armies, 
gave this country a wide berth. 

“ He wandered about, leading an idle, adventurous 
life, until he thought it safe for him to return to this 
country. This he did, and accidentally met Louise 
Montague, whose early wildness had developed into 
something worse, for she had become an outcast. 
From her he learned of his wife’s second marriage 
and place of residence. 

“My mother listened to this long story,” said 
Natalie, “ in a state of mind bordering on madness. 
This man, whom she believed to be dead and for 
whom she had conceived a loathing, was her hus- 
band! She must leave her luxurious home, give up 
her social position, abandon everything dear to a 
woman’s heart, and taking her young daughter, must 
follow this brute, this wretch, whose every act had 


191 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

slio''X^n him to be utterly devoid of manhood or prin- 
ciple, and whose bloated face and worn attire proclaim- 
ed him to be a drunkard. It would have been hard to 
have given up all for a man she loved, but for this 
beast, it was intolerable ! It was while in this state of 
mind, and torn by these contending emotions, that 
the man before her made her a proposition. She was 
rich, he said, and he poor. He could not support her 
and did not want to be hard on her. If she would 
give him enough to live on and to keep Louise Mon- 
tague’s mouth shut, he would say nothing about their 
marriage, and the world would be none the wiser. 
The temptation came to her in the first shock of her 
fright and agony. On the one side disgrace, poverty, 
degradation, and such a companion ! On the other, 
all the luxury with which she was surrounded, and 
which had become second nature to her. It was 
wrong, it was weak, it was wicked, but oh, Wick, my 
darling, she 3delded.” 

And Natalie who had been speaking very rapidly 
and controlling her agitation with all the strength of 
her will, lost her self-command and burst into a spasm 
of hysterical weeping, for the second time in her 
life. 

Captain Breckenridge, whose strong clasp had never 
weakened during this long recital, now tightened it, 
and stroking her soft hair, poured a world of sym- 
pathy and tenderness into her ear, and with caresses 
and endearing words, soothed her into something 
approaching calm. 

Do not try to tell me more now,” he said, ten- 
derly. 


192 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


“Yes, let me go on — let me linish. It will be 
easier now than at another time, and I must tell you 
all.” 

“Very well, darling, but take your time. Do not 
so excite yourself.” 

“ Thank you, dear. The rest is soon told. My 
mother in consenting to this scheme, made herself the 
slave of as base a scoundrel as ever lived, and he 
used his advantage freely. Every available dollar 
that she could secure without arousing her husband’s 
suspicions, went into his pocket, to be spent in vile 
debauchery. His companion, the witness of the 
marriage, died from the effects of dissipation, but her 
death was carefully concealed from my mother.” 

“ The end came at length,” continued Natalie in a 
choked voice. 

“Harassed and nagged at by my father, black- 
mailed and threatened by Stuyvesant, her brain gave 
way. She dropped dead one morning of apoplexy.” 

The sobs were swelling up in her throat again, but 
she conquered them and went on with the same force 
of will that she had exhibited all through. 

“ It was the very irony of fate that Martin Stuyve- 
sant was shot in a drunken brawl in a Mott Street 
opium den, on the afternoon of the sudden death of 
my mother. After her death my father found some 
of his black-mailing letters to her which proved to him 
clearly enough, that his wife had had a living husband 
at the time he married her, who had outlived her, 
and that consequently his marriage had been illegal, 
and I — oh Wick, how can I ever look you in the face 
again ? — I am illegitimate.” 


193 


A Blue-Grans Thoroughbred, 

“ Why, my darling ! why should you avoid meeting 
my eye ? You cannot be blamed for your mother’s 
fault, and she — well she was weak at the last, but en- 
tirely blameless at first.” 

“ Look me straight in the face, Wicklyffe Brecken- 
ridge,” cried Natalie springing suddenly from his 
arms and facing him, “and answer me on your hope 
of your soul’s salvation. Do you tell me that you 
love me none the less for what I have told you, and 
are willing to take an illegitimate daughter as a 
bride to your ancestral home ? ” 

“ As solemnly as I know how to say it, I assure 
you that I do not love you one Avhit the less for what 
you have said, and that now, as ever since I met you 
at White Sulphur, the one wish of my heart, the 
crowning glory of my life will be to have you come 
to my lonely home and make life a long summer day 
to me.” 

“ Do you want me so badly as that? ” 

“ Every pulsation of my heart, every fibre of my 
nerves, every thought of my brain calls out for you 
to come to me. My darling, my loved one ! ” 

“ Then take me whenever you will ! ” she cried, 
flinging lierself into his arms in the entire abandon- 
ment of unutterable love. 

“ Natalie ! you mean that ? ” 

“ Yes, I am yours when you will take me ” 

“ My own, my wife ! ” 

When Captain Breckenridge took his leave at 
the door, he almost ran over Nathaniel Pegram. 

Had Pegram seen a ghost he could not have been 
more thoroughly startled. He even rubbed his eyes 


194 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

to assure himself that it was uo fantastic creation cjf 
liis brain. 

“ You here ! he exclaimed. 

“ Good afternoon, Mr. Pegram,” said the Kentuck- 
ian, quietly. ' 

“ What the devil are you doing here ? ” thundered 
Pegram. 

“ I have just been calling on Miss Pegram,” an' 
swered Wick, with the same quiet politeness. 

You have eh ? And by what authority ? ” 

“ I don’t generally relate the contents of notes re- 
ceived from young ladies, but I will make an excep- 
tion in this case. I came in response to an invitation 
sent me by Miss Pegram.” 

“ You are an impudent liar.” 

The captain sprang forward like a lion, his whole 
face suffused, his eyes flaming. But with a mighty 
effort he commanded himself and answered in even 
tones whose depth alone evinced emotion: 

“ You are an old man, Natalie’s father, and in your 
own house, three good reasons for not resenting a 
speech such as I never thought I should allow to pass 
unnoticed.” 

“ How dare you show your face in my house after 
I had you ejected from my office ? ” 

“ I think your memory a little deficient. Tried to 
have me ejected, perhaps, but did not succeed ! ” 

His cold, contemptuous tones seemed to irritate 
the old man beyond reason. 

“ PTere, Thomas, Clarkson, some of you, all of you,” 
he cried, choking with rage, “ put this person out ! 
Ho you hear? Put him out, I say ! ’’ 


^4. Blue-Grass Thoroughbreds 


195 


Several flunkies came running in response to their 
master’s commands ; but paused aghast at this most 
unexpected order. The powerful frame' and stern 
eye of the Kentuckian were very plausible reasons for 
hesitation. 

“ Stop ! ” came a clear, firm voice, and Natalie step- 
ped from the room, where Wick had but recently 
left her, into the hall. 

“ Thomas,” she said, “ this gentleman is a friend 
of mine. Do not pay any attention to my father’s 
orders. He is not responsible for what he says just 
now, and will regret it to-morrow.” 

The flunkies, glad enough to be relieved of so dis- 
agreeable a dilemma, fell back in respectful silence, 
whilst Nathaniel Pegram, actually speechless with 
surprise and rage, stood staring from one to another. 

“ I think it is perhaps only fair to tell you that I 
shall call to-morrow at half-past ten o’clock for the 
purpose of taking your daughter to a clergyman and 
being married,” said Wick, still in that ever sup- 
pressed, deep voice. 

“What did you say?” asked Pegram, almost 
wildly, in his bewilderment. 

“ I said I intend to call to-morrow at exactly half- 
past ten and claim your daughter as my bride.” 

“ Elope with my daughter ? ” 

“No sir!” thundered the captain. “Not elope, 
I will come openly, in broad daylight and take her. 
Let him stop me who can.” 

“ How dare you stand here in my own house and 
tell me that to my face I ” stuttered the old man. 

“ Because it is truel Is it not, Natalie?” 


196 


A Blue- Grass Thoroughbred. 


“ Yes, Wick.” 

“ Oh, it is you, you baggage ! And don’t you fear 
some one may tell your ‘ Wick ’ the history of a cer- 
tain Mrs. Stuyvesant? ” 

“ I have told him.” 

“ You did not dare to tell — ” 

“ Natalie has told me the story of that much 
tempted and most unfortunate of women,” said the 
captain. “ She was more sinned against than sin- 
ning ana expiated her fault by her great suffering.” 

“ And you will marry her after that ? ” 

“ As I already informed you, I shall call to-morrow 
morning to claim my bride. The interview has been 
already too prolonged. Good-afternoon, Mr. Peg- 
ram. Natalie, my darling, I shall come for you at 
half-past ten. Do not fail to be ready.” 

“I shall not fail you, dear. Au revoirT 
Before Pegram could recover from his enraged 
stupor. Captain Breckenridge had walked calmly out 
and closed the door behind him. 


A Blue-Qrass Thoroughbred, 


197 


CHAPTER XXVIL 

On a quiet street in El Paso, in a little cottage, a 
fair woman sits sewing. She is dressed in the plain- 
est attire, with no evidence of ornament about her 
save, the neat collar and cuffs of snowy linen. She 
is working patiently, wearily, when a sharp knock at 
the door startles her. 

“ Letter and registered package for Mrs. Alice 
Jones.” 

“ I am she, but who can they be from ? ” 

The postman made no answer to this obviously 
idle question, but delivered the package and left. 

The Japanese postmark and unfamiliar handwrit- 
ing of the address puzzled her still more. She opened 
the letter first, and almost faintedat the first word. 

The letter was as follows : 

“ My Dear Mrs. Mayhew : 

In accordance with the last wishes of a dying 
man, I write you and send by same mail a package 
previously sealed by him and addressed to you. 

Your husband, Tarleton Mayhew, died in my arms. 
His last thoughts were of you. His last words, ex- 
pressive of forgiveness. 


198 A £hie- Grass Thoroughbred, 

Never in my experience have I known of a truer 
and deeper love than he evinced for you. Your name 
was on his lips as he died. 

I refrain from conventional condolence, merely 
assuring you of my deepest sympathy. 

Very sincerely, 

Ransom Randolph.” 

Yokohoma, June — , 18 — . 

The final words of the letter were blotted by her 
tears, which fell thick and fast. 

It was sometime before she could summon self- 
command enough to open the heavy package that ac- 
companied the letter. The first thing that met her 
view was a bundle of bonds and certificates, amount- 
ing to a large sura. Accompanying these were formal 
notification from the American Consular office, in 
Yokohama, of the death of her husband, and a copy 
of his will. There were a few other papers of more 
or less legal character, and then she came to the pack- 
age sealed with her husband’s signet and addressed 
to Mrs. Alice Jones. 

It was a diary, dating from the day of her flight to 
within three days of his death and gave the details of 
his pursuit and vengeance, and of his subsequent 
wanderings. It made a bulky package, for not one 
day was missed, and of all those records, there was 
not one which did not conclude with some evidence 
of his great love for her. 

She read far into the night, poring over the sad 
pages with a deep and melancholy interest. She had 
never understood her husband. She had very much 


199 


A Bliie-G-rass Tkorouglihred, 

under-estimated his nobility of character, and had 
considered him a cold book-worm, more interested in 
scientific investigation than in living persons and 
passing events. His sensitive shrinking from express- 
ing a love he felt was unreciprocated, she had wholly 
misapprehended, and she finished by holding him in 
very light esteem, almost contempt. As she read, 
liowever, the outpourings of his great passion, saw 
the real strength of his nature, and understood the 
mighty struggle of contending emotions which had 
gone on in his heart, it all came like a revelation to 
her, and she realized what a man she had neglected, 
despised and finally crushed with her frivolity. 

A great change came over her in that long sleep- 
less night. Having finished his diary, she sat and 
gazed out into the clear starlight canopy. She who 
had despised him living, loved him dead. A feeling, 
hard to describe, came into her heart, and slie knew 
that henceforth, forevermore, her soul was conse- 
crated to his memory. 

The early morning found her still sitting looking 
out of the window. 

The amount left her by her husband was large 
enougli to enable her to select her own mode of life, 
and she determined what that was to be. She entered 
no religious order, took no vow ; but her face, grown 
grave and earnest now, became a welcome visitor in 
many homes of sickness and misery. Unostentatious 
in her charities, unassuming in her acts of mercy, 
she passed the remainder of her days in making her 
atonement. And she, too, kept a diary ; for on her 
death, which occurred some years later in a plague- 


200 A Blue-Gira9% Thoroughbred, 

stricken city, whither she had gone to nurse the sick 
and relieve the needy, one was found in her bosom, 
and every day there was mentioned the name of lier 
misuiiderstood and mucli injured liusbaud. 


A I^lue-irrass Thoroughbred. 


201 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Captain Breckenridge was up early on the morn- 
ing of the day following his visit to Natalie and the 
stormy scene with her father. He busied himself 
making pi-eliminary arrangements for the wedding, and 
was wondering how he was to pass the short interval 
before he called for his bride, when in the rotunda 
of liis hotel he met old Colonel Churchill, Heloise’s 
father. 

“ Going to be busy this morning ? ” he asked the 
colonel, rather nervously, after a cordial greeting. 

“ No ; I have nothing to do before two o’clock. 
Why?” 

“ Oh, nothing ! That is, I am going to be married 
this morning, and would like you to witness the 
ceremony.” 

“ And he calls that nothing ! Just incidentally 
expects to drop in somewhere and casually get mar- 
ried, if the weather is fine ! ” laughed the genial old 
lawyer, who dearly loved his little joke. 

Wick laughed too, but a little uneasily, and ex- 
plained the situation. The old Kentuckian’s eyes 
gleamed as he heard of the captain’s determination 
to call for and take his bride, willy-nilly. 

“ Go with you ? ” he cried. “ I would not miss it 
for the world. I’ll stand by you through thick and 
thin, you can rest assured ! Come on ! ” 


202 A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred. 

They stepped into the carriage and were driven to 
the house. 

“No use in getting yourself mixed up in the row 
that’s coming,” said the captain. “ Just wait outside. 
I don’t think I’ll be urged to stay a very long time.” 

“ All right ! You are equal to the whole of them 
and won’t need my assistance.” 

Wick ascended the steps and rang the bell. The 
door was opened by Thomas. 

“Miss Natalie ready, Thomas?” asked the cap- 
tain, in his most matter-of-fact way. 

“ Beg pardon, sir,” said Thomas, opening the door 
very wide, “but I lias orders not to admit you into 
the house this morning.” 

“ I cannot help what orders you may have. I 
want to see Miss Natalie,” said the Kentuckian, his 
color rising and a dangerous gleam coming into his 
eye. 

“ Them’s, my orders, sir, but of course if you was 
to M&Q force — ” and the honest eyes of the footman 
twinkled. 

“Oh, I see! Well, stand out of my way, sir.” 
The voice was stern, but the hand that was laid upon 
the footman’s shoulder conveyed a bank-note into his 
outstretched palm first, and the pressure required to 
move him was of the very lightest. Pushing him 
unceremoniously aside, the captain stalked into the 
centre of the hall-way and called aloud : 

“ Natalie I Natalie, are you ready ? ” 

“ Yes, dear ! ” answered Natalie, coming, read}^ 
dressed, from an adjoining room ; and walking up to 
her betrothed, she kissed him full in the mouth. 


A. Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 203 

“ Stop ! ” thundered a voice from the head of the 
stairway, and Nathaniel Pegram came excitedly down. 
“Stop 1 say ! 1 forbid yon to go with tliat man ! ” 

“And I answer that I will go wliitlier he asks me, 
though all the world should cry stop ! ” 

You, sir ! For the third time you have intruded, 
this time forcibly, upon my premises.” 

“ I have little or nothing to say to you, sir. I have 
come for my bride and I mean to take her.” 

“ Natalie, if you go with tliat man, the story of 
your mother’s shame will be made public before 
night.” 

“Do so, if you will. I cannot make another suffer 
as I have done, and that other the man I love.” 

“ All the world shall know that you haven’t even 
a name.” 

“ Before they can acquire that information,” said 
Captain Breckenridge, sternly, “she will have an 
lionored one, and it will be mine, sir ! And when it 
is added that she is my wife, there will be few indeed 
who will dare offer her slight or affront. But we are 
wasting time. Come Natalie.” 

“ Natalie, I forbid you.” 

But his words fell on empty space, for the captain 
had led Natalie to the door and together they passed 
out •, the banging of the door behind them was the 
only answer the old man received. 

He looked after them for a moment, as if dazed, 
made an effort to speak, gasped once or twice, grasped 
his collar and tore it open, then sank in a heap on 
the floor. 

Thomas, who had been watching through the crack 


204 


A Blue-Qrass Thoroughbreds 

of a convenient . door, came immediately to his 
master’s assistance, and calling help, conveyed him to 
a couch and summoned his physician in haste. 

Natalie and her lover, unconscious of what had 
taken place, proceeded to the carriage where she was 
greeted warmly by the old lawyer. 

Tliey were driven to the house of a clergyman, 
who with a few simple words united for life the two 
hearts which had so loved and longed for each other. 

“ What are your plans now ? ” asked the Colonel. 

“ The next train leaves at six this evening. We 
shall take it and go straight to Lexington.” 

“ You must not fail to come down within the next 
two weeks, however.” 

“ For what reason ? ” 

“Oh, I have enjoyed this wedding so much I am 
going to have one at my own house.” 

“ Y^our daughter and Frank ? ” 

“Yes; the young people have arranged it to suit 
themselves.” 

“Your daughter is much to be congratulated; 
almost as much as is Frank Manly.” 

“Thank you ! Y^es, I like the young fellow. Seems 
to be a lad of spirit.” 

“ He is a noble fellow. As you say, a lad of mettle 
and very high principles.” 

Just then a knock came at the door of the parlor in 
which this conversation took place, and Thomas, the 
footman, appeared, his usually imperturbable counten- 
ance wearing an anxious look. 

“ Wliat is it, Thomas? ” asked Natalie, with a vague 
feeling of alarm. 


^4 Blue- Grass Thoroughbred, 205 

“ Mr. Pegram is took bad, ma’am. He had a lit.” 

“ Great heavens ! Is it serious ? ” 

“ Dr. Griffin says he can’t tell just yet, but thought 
it would be just as well for you to come.” 

“ What shall I do ? ” she answered, turning to her 
husband. 

“ Go to him by all means,” he replied. “ I will 
wait here and you can send me word by Thomas, or 
come yourself, according to the exigencies of the 
case.” 

Natalie hurriedly put on her hat, and kissing her 
husband, followed the footman, and was driven to 
the home she had left under such exciting circum- 
stances that morning. Arrived there, she found her 
father breathing heavily, but unconscious. 

“Is it serious- — fatal?” she asked of the grave- 
faced physician who stood at his bedside. 

“Serious, yes; fatal, I doubt. One can never tell 
where these strokes will end. To-morrow his condi- 
tion will be clearly defined, but not until then. In 
the meantime, no news is good news.” 

With mingled feelings of remorse and anxiet}-, 
Natalie despatched a note to her husband, and set 
about doing all she could to alleviate the condition 
of the suffering mam 


206 


A Blue-Qrass Thorouyhhred 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Nathaniel Pegu am did not die, nor was he, indeed, 
very long ill. The attack had been sharp and dan- 
gerous, but the effect once over, he was out of danger, 
and indeed, save for a little weakness, as well as ever. 
He had had a suffusion of blood, serious enough to 
render him unconscious, and had any one of the en- 
goi-ged veins broken and allowed the blood to flow 
upon his brain, paralysis or death would have fol- 
lowed. But as nothing of the sort occurred. Dr. 
Griffin was soon able to inform his anxious daughter 
that all danger was past. 

She accordingly dressed herself to go out, and 
stopped at his bedside to bid her father farewell. 

“ Dr. Griffin tells me that you are safe now,” she 
said. 

Now that he was no longer ill, her old feeling of 
resentment had returned to her, and the former cold 
ring was perceptible in the tones of her voice. 

“ And you have come to say good-bye to me ? ” he 
asked, a great shadow falling over his face. 

“ Yes. I must go to my husband.” 

“ Natalie, do not leave me. I am alone in the 
world, and this attack proves I am growing old and 
feeble. Do not leave me in my old age, without a 
single prop for my declining years.” 


207 


A Blue-Grrabs Thoroughbred, 

“ Had you used that tone formerly, or made that 
appeal, I might have felt that my duty was with you. 
It is too late now. I am married, and my duty lies 
with my husband.” 

“Oh, Natalie, my daughter! You are all I have 
to love, and I believe the only person I ever did love. 
How can you have the heart to leave me in my sick- 
ness and distress ? ” 

“Father,” she said, seating herself beside him, and 
taking his hand, “ it may be that we have all along 
misunderstood each other. It may be that I wronged 
you when I thought you cold, devoid even of the 
paternal instinct. If so, much pain would have been 
spared me had I known it, and perhaps I should 
have made a better and more dutiful daughter. But 
it is too late now. I have given my hand where my 
heart v/ent long ago, to a man you hate. Let us 
part friends and remain so, though we may never 
meet again. In this I am obeying my duty as a wife. 
Again I say, if I have misjudged and misunderstood 
yon, forgive me. And now farewell ! ” 

She stooped over him to kiss him, but he put one 
arm out and drawing her to a seat on the bedside, 
said slowly: 

“Natalie, is Captain Breckenridge within easy 
reach ? ” 

“ He awaits me at the hotel, and the carriage is 
ready for me to go to him.” 

“ Could you bring him here ? ” 

“ Bring him here ! ” She could scarcely realize 
that she was not dreaming. 

“ Yes. I have something I want to say to him.” 


208 A Blue- Grans TJioroughhred, 

“ Surely, father, you would not have me bring my 
husband here to be again affronted ? ” 

“ Send for him, child, if you think he will come. 
I promise you you will never regret it.’* 

“ I can send him a note. What shall I say ? ” 

“ Say simply that I have something that I would 
rather say than write.” 

Natalie hesitated, for she had never seen her father 
in this mood, and, as she had truly said, she did not 
understand him at all. However, after a moment’s 
reflection, she went into her room and wrote the note. 

Scarce half an hour elapsed ere she heard a foot- 
step at the door, and looking up, beheld the powerful 
figure of her husband. 

“Wick ! ” she exclaimed, springing up and throw- 
ing her arms around his neck. “ You have come.” 

“ Yes. I can allow no false pride on my part 
to stand between you and your father. You 
wish to see me, Mr. Pegram ? ” He advanced to the 
centre of the room and stood erect and facing the re- 
cumbent man, as lie had often faced a battery, with 
clear and unfaltering gaze. His tone was cold and 
formal. 

“ Yes, sir. Captain Breckenridge, when you first 
came into my office, I was laboring under a false im- 
pression, due to my New England education. I acted 
on that false impression, hastily and unwarrantably. 
I have had time to correct myself as to that impres- 
sion, but recent business annoyances, coupled with an 
unfortunate temper, has made me unjust and unman- 
ly. 1 want to ask you to forgive me. I want to say 
in the presence of my daughter, that I was wholly 


A Blue-Grans Thoroughbred. 209 

wrong, ungentlemanly, and pig-headed. In all my 
life I never so humbled myself before, and I earnestly 
hope that you will belie've in my sincerity.” 

Captain Breckenridge, whohad stood like a soldier 
on parade, while the old man was speaking, his hand- 
some face expressive of the profoundest astonish- 
ment, here suddenly sprang forward. 

“ Enough, Mr. Pegram,” he cried, taking the out- 
stretched hand of the old man in his powerful clasp. 
“ You have said enough and more. I should accept 
the apology of any man couched in such terms, and 
from you I know the effort it costs. Let bye-gones 
be bye-gones.” 

“ I thought you would pardon me,” said the mer- 
chant, “and that was why I sent for you. The truth 
is, I don’t want Nathalie to leave me and I want to 
talk matters over with you about it.” 

“ Well, of course, I don’t want to hurry her away 
under existing circumstances, but we must go in a 
few days.” 

“ Can’t jmu make it a few weeks ? ” 

“ Quite impossible. I have made arrangements for 
taking a partner. My superintendent is to be mar- 
ried next week. His father-in-law that is to be, has 
bought a half interest in my business and wants to 
make him a wedding present of it. It is too import- 
ant for me to miss it, and beside Frank would want 
me to be present, and feel hurt if I were not.” 

“ Frank Manly ! Has he done so well ?” 

“ Yes, he is about to marry a charming girl, an 
heiress too.” 

“ Well, I am glad. His temper and mine clashed 


210 A Blue~Grass Thoroughbred, 

too much for me to like him as a clerk, but I always 
respected and wished him well.” 

‘‘Father,” said Natalie, suddenly breaking in, 
“why can’t you come to Kentucky with us? You 
are worn out and a little of our blue grass will do 
you good I ” She glanced archly at Wick. 

“Yes,” said Wick, heartily, “come out and see 
Frank married, and then take a run up to Lexington 
and stop with us a while.” 

The old man eyed him keenly, with a surprised 
look on his face. 

“ You say that as if you meant it,” he finally said. 

“ Of course I meant it.” 

“ Do you really want me under your roof, after all 
that has happened? ” 

“ Indeed I do ! I most strongly urge it.” 

“ Captain Breckenridge, you make me feel smaller 
than I ever did in my life. You are a nobler and 
loftier character than I believed existed in this 
world.” 

“ After I have taken a man’s hand in amity, old 
scores are completely wiped out. About this trip I 
may be misinformed, but — ” he hesitated a little — 
“ your affairs are a little complicated ; you have not 
been able to look over them for several days, why 
not cut the whole thing for a while? ” 

“ If for no other purpose than to meet you half 
way in your kindly sentiments, I will accept your in- 
vitation. My affairs are not complicated, for I have 
always kept my business and speculations as distinct 
as if they were properties of different owners. I 
have been pretty hard hit, it is true, but my ‘store ’ 


A BluC'Crvass Thorouyhbred. 211 

is still intact and I am in no danger of starving just 
yet.” 

“ Well, 1 am heartily glad to hear it. When can 
you go ? ” 

“ The sooner the better.” 

“ Then let it be to-morrow.” 


212 


A BluQ~Qrass Thoroughbred, 


CHAPTER XXXL 

It was a gorgeous wedding that united Frank 
Manly and Heloise Churchill. One of the largest 
and handsomest churches in Louisville was literally 
packed with the fashion and beauty of the Falls 
City. The building was splendidly decorated, a pro- 
fusion of rarest flowers was draped and festooned 
about the altar, pillars and windows. 

A full orchestra added its volume to the diapason 
of the grand organ in Mendelsohn’s W edding March, 
as the wide doors of the church swung open and the 
bridal party entered, and moved slowly to the altar, 
where the imposing form of the Bishop of Kentucky, 
supported on either side by an assisting clergyman, 
stood waiting to receive it. 

A stir ran through the crowded throng, followed 
by the suppressed whispering of hundreds of feminine 
lips. 

“ Here they come ! ” 

“ Oh ! isn’t she a lovely bride ? ” 

“ Eight bridesmaids and none of them in white.” 
“ Just look at the lace on that dress ! It’s worth a 
fortune a yard.” 


213 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 

A few days after tlie wedding the two young 
couples, accompanied by the fathers of the brides, 
made preparation to leave for Lexington, where they 
were to spend the double honey-moon, in lieu of the 
usually more extended tour. As Heloise passed from 
her boudoir, where she had exchanged her bridal robe 
for a neat and most becoming traveling suit, she 
paused for a moment to indulge in a characteristic 
colloquy with her image in the mirror. 

“ Mrs. Manly, accept my congratulations and best 
wishes for your future, and may innocence and truth 
be always so rewarded. But my dear madame” — and 
the satirical smile faded from her lips and a very 
serious expression took its place — “ as I may not have 
an opportunity of another confidential interview with 
you for some time, let me give you a serious piece of 
advice. Any woman can fool a man, consequently 
you will be able to fool youl* husband ; but, my dear 
Mrs. Frank Manly, you cannot fool with him. He is 
not a man to be trifled with, my dear, I can assure 
you, and ” 

“ Why, Heloise, what on earth are you doing ? ” 
said a voice at the door. 

“ Why, Frank, how you frightened me ! I was 
indulging in a habit I have had since childhood. I 
was talking to the only person I ever met, whom I 
could absolutely trust, and the only confidant I ever 
had, and there she is ! ” 

He had come close behind her as she spoke, and 
put both arms around her. 

“ You have some one else to trust and confide in 


214 A Blue^Crrass Thoroughbred, 

now, my little wife ! Don’t make me jealous by 
having secrets for her which you keep from me.” 

“ No, my darling husband ! I never will.” 

And being a level-headed young woman, who knew 
and loved her husband, she never did. 

On the following day the party met by agreement 
and started out on a tour of the two farms, and to 
indulge in that recreation of which the true Kentuck- 
ian never seems to tire, looking at the horses.” 

“ A perfect day, a glorious country ! ” exclaimed 
Nathaniel Pegram, as they turned from viewing the 
lot of clean-limbed beauties. “ What a relief after 
the turmoil and strife of Wall Street ! How I hate 
the idea, of going back to the crowded struggling 
city ! How my old head will throb when I begin 
again ! ” 

“ Why should you b%in again ? or, at least, why 
go back to New York at all ? ” asked Wick, ‘‘ Wliy 
not stay out here altogether ? ” 

“ Impossible ! My interests are there. 

“ Why not make your greatest interest out here ? ” 

“ I don’t understand you.” 

“Simply this. The vote has not been taken on 
the charter for your new railroad, and I believe it 
will pass.” 

“But Jones gave up and went home.” 

“Because Jones went off without understanding 
my position or that of a number of members of tlie 
Legislature, is no reason why you should give it up. 
There has been so much talk about bribery, foreign 
capital, and the rest of it, that those who thought 
favorably of the bill hesitated to say so, until they 


215 


A Blue-Grrass Thoroughbred. 

had made a more thorough investigation. A number 
of* them, especially those from this section of the 
country, are now satisfied that the bill is very much 
to our interest, and I am now confident we can pass 
it.” 

“ You will favor it and help it?” 

“ With all my heart.” 

“ Thank you ; but what would you suggest if the 
charter does pass.” 

“That you stay out here and build the road. 
Jones can do all the business in New York and you 
can manage this end. It is a big thing ; I think 
large enough to warrant your giving your time to it, 
and Natalie and I will try to make your stay here 
pleasant.” 

“ Thank you, my boy. I’ll think very seriously 
about it.” 

They joined the rest of the party and walked 
slowly home over the velvety carpet of young grass, 
and as they walked, from the stable a group of 
jockeys and stable boys watched them. 

“I tell you dat’s a mighty purty gal dat Capin 
fotch home fom New Yawk,” said one. 

“ Ya-a-s, indeedy! But I like Miss Heloise de 
best. She look like she got de debble in her. Got 
an eye like a two year ol’ filly dat ain’t been broke.’’ 

“ Talkin’ about purty people, I think dat Mr. 
Manly’s one of the cleanest looking pony-built men I 
ever saw. Now, Zeke, jis’ look at him walkin along 
over dar. See how he picks up his feet. He’d make 
a flyer ef dey’d train him right.” 

“ Sho— ” said Zeke. “ G’long, nigger, you ain’t 


216 


A Blue-Grass Thoroughbred, 


got no eyes. Mr. Manly’s powerful fine-lookin’ man, 
but ’long side of the Cap’n ! Why, jis’ look at him 
as he walk along, he’s a reg’lar Blue-Grass 
Thoroughbred 1 ” 


THE END. 



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chosen profession.”— Herald. 

TOM BURTON. 

A Story of the days of ’61. By N. J. W. Le Cato, author of “ Aunt Sally’s 
Boy Jack.” 13mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50 cents. 

“Told in a pleasing way.” — American. Baltimore. 

“ The book is full of stirring incidents, and the occasional bits of natural humor add 
charms to an interesting and lively stovY."— Jeweller's Weekly, N. T. 

“ It will surely interest both young and old.”— Boston. 

A NOVEL WITH A PLOT: 

TflE TRUTH ABOUT TRISTREM VARIOK. 

By Edgar Saltus, author of “ Mr. Incoul’s Misadventure,” etc. 12mo. 
Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. 

In this novel Mr. Saltus has treated a subject hitherto unexploited in fiction. The 
scene is Fifth Avenut*, the action emotional, the plot a surprise. “ There is,” some one 
said, “as much mu I in the upper classes as in the lower ; only, in the former it is gilded.” 
This aphori m might serve as epigraph to Tristrem Varick. 

BELFORDf CtjA.RK E <€* CO,, FublisherSf 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO. 


BOOKS MOST TALKED ABOUT. 


EDEN. 

By Edgar Saltus, author of “ The Truth about Tristrem Varick,” etc. 
Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. 

In this novel Mr. Saltng describes an episode in a honeymoon. The plot is dramatic, 
^ Ml nervous, and the scene Fifth Avenue. As a picture of contemporaneous life it 

will be condemned by every lover of the commonplace. 


A NEW ROMANCE OF THE mh CENTURY," 

EROS. 

A Novel. By Laura Daintrey, author of “ Miss Varian, of New York.” 
12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. Strong, interesting, and 
delightful. 


MARIE. 

A Seaside Episode. By J. P. Ritter, Jr. With Illustrations by Coultaus. 
Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50 cents. 

In this poem, the author tells an interesting love story in an exceedingly bright, 
clever, and amusing fashion, that reminds one a good deal of Byron’s “ Beppo.’° Inciden- 
tally, he satirizes society in a light vein of humor, and in a style that is graceful and epi- 
grammatic. The volume contains over forty illustrations, and is an admirable specimen of 
the bookmaker’s art. 


A NEW AND EXTRAORDINARY STUDY OF HUMAN NATURE. 

THE EOMANOE OF A QUIET WATERIUa PLACE. 

Being the unpremeditated Confessions of a not altogether frivolous girl (ex- 
tracted from the private correspondence of Miss Evelyn J. Dwyer). By 
Nora Helen Warddel. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50 cents. 
Thirty beautiful Illustrations by Graves. 

“The story is very readable.” — N. Y. Sun. 

“Cleverly conceived and as cleverly told, and has a dash of French flavor in it.”— 
JIartfwd Courant. 

“ No American novel has been so beautifully illustrated. • • • An original work, 
bracing and piquant as Worcestershire sauce or a bottle of thirty years old sherry.”— 
Argus° Baltirnore. 

BELFORD, CLARKE A CO., Publishers, 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, and SAN FRANCISCO. 




MEMORIES OF THE MEN WHO SAVED THE UNION, 

Lincoln, Stanton, Chase, Seward, Gen. Thomas, etc., with new portraits. 

By Bonn Piatt. 12mo., Cloth, gilt top, illustrated, |1.50. Paper covers, 
25 cents. 

“This is one of the ablest books on the war, and will create a sensation.” — Times. 

“ Very few men had the opportunity of knowing the inside history of the war as well 
as Mr. Piatt.” — Courier^ New Haven. 

“ Every word of the volume is thoroughly readable, and no one who begins it will lay 
it aside without going to the end.” — The American^ Baltimore. 

ANTI-POVERTY AND PROGRESS. 

By Sister Frances M. Clare, the Nun of Kenmare. 1 vol., 12mo. Paper 
covers, 50 cents. 

“ The good sister alternately deals effective blows against Mr. George’s impracticabili- 
ties and urges upon the rich, alike ecclesiastical as lay, the inauguration of true anti-poverty 
from the top of society. * * * The author evidently thinks religion more of a remedy 

for poverty than science.” — Brooklyn Eagle. 

THE TRUTH ABOUT ALCOHOL. 

By Robert Alexander Gunn, M.D. Square 32mo. Cloth, 40 cents. 

“ There is much common sense in ‘ The Truth About Alcohol.’ The author is a well- 
known New York physician, who has made a specialty of the subject of stimulants. He 
d -monstrates by conclusive evidence that spirits are of great value in many cases, and that 
the temperance advocates wilfully pervert the t-nth Increasing age brings with it less 
capacity for enduring mental strain and worry, and spirits act as a recuperative influence. 
The same is true in regard to taking of wine or liquors by brain-workers with their meals. 
Di-estion is aided, and the lassitude so frequently experienced is removed. The little book 
demands a wide circulation, as it contains information vouched for by the best medical 
authorities, both here and abroad, which is of great practical value.”— iSia/i Francisco 
Chronicle. 

ROBERT ELSMERE. 

By Mrs. Humphrey Ward, author of “ Miss Bretherton,’^ etc. 12mo. Cloth. 
Price, $1.25. 

“ The book is a drama in which every page is palpitating with intense and real life . It 
is a realistic novel in the highest sense of the word.” — Whitehall Review. 

“ Comparable in sheer intellectual power to the best works of George Eliot. 
Unquestionably one of the most notable works of fiction that has been produced in years.” 
—The Scotsman. 

THE PRINCESS DAPHNE. 

12mo. Cloth, $1.00. In Paper covers, illustrated by a remarkable and 
unique drawing by E. Hamilton Bell, 50 cents. 

The heroine of this thrilling story is a Creole descended from two of the original 
settlers of New Orleans. The story deals with phases of Bohemian life in New York and 
London; with love, mesmerism, death, transmigration, and reincarnation. It is told in an 
undisguised realistic fashion that reminds one of Daudet’s “ Sapho,” and it has a most 
startling denouement. 


For sale everywhere, or may be had of the Publishers on receipt of price, 
free of postage, 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, and SAN FRANCISCO. 


JBOOKIS. 


IT IS THE LA.W. 

A Story of Marriage and Divorce. By Thojias Edgar Willson. 12mo. 
Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50 cents. 

“ The book is written with much force and the subject is presented in a fearless way.” 
—Democrat, Keokuk. 

” One of the most curious books that has appeared for many a Chronicle, San 

Francisco. 

“ The book is not suited to general Republican Journal, Belfast. 

“ The book can only be appreciated by being read, and while somewhat flashy, is not a 
very exaggerated expose of the matrimonial law as now observed .” — Columbia Law Times. 

” The book professes to show and prove that in New York a man can have as many 
wives as he chooses to support,” &c.— Woman s Journal, Boston. 

WOMAN THE STRONGER. 

A Novel. By Wm. J. Flagg. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50 cents. 
“ Pull of clever writing ; up to the average novel.”— YAc Globe. 

The editor of tBelford's says: ‘‘ It is far superior to many of the so-called novels of th 
day.” 

MISS VARIAN OP NEW YORK. 

By Laura Daintrey, author of “Bros.” 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper 50 
cents. 

This is the Fifteenth Edition of “Miss Varian,” a fact which speaks more forcibly 
than words for its worth and interest to the novel-reading world. 


By the Author of “POEMS OP PASSION.” 

“ MAURINE,” and other Poems. 

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. With Photogravure Portrait of the Author. 
12 no. Cloth. Price $1.00. 

“ Poems of Passion ” sells faster than any ®ther book of poems published. ” Maurine” 
is by the same hand and brain. The poems are as good and beautiful as those in her other 
popular work. 

STAR DUST. 

A Collection of Poems. By Fannie Isabel Sherrick- 12 mo. Cloth, gilt 

$ 1 . 00 . 

“These Poems show great originality and an imagery which is both forcible and 

delicate.”— 5/?. Louis Republican. . 

“ A gifted writer, and many of her metrically expressed thoughts will have an enduring 

place in American Literature.” — Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 


RENTS IN OUR ROBES. 

By Mrs. Frank Leslie. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50c. 

A brillant review of modern society and manners, by one of their most noted ex- 
pon^ts Sparkling sketches and essays of modern life, invested with all the charm of 
wU rail erv sentiment and spont tneity which a cultured woman of the world might be 
SoeSed toV^^^^ such a subject. ‘‘ Ren s in Our Robes ” is a book that helps no less 

fSn ifeDtertain.raS<i parhap, no\efter .dea of Us charm m .ay- 

ing that the author has put a great deal of herself into the work. 


BELFORD, CLARKE A CO., Publishers, 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK AND SAN FRANCISCO. 


330C3>IS:S 


OFF THOUGHTS ABOUT LOVE, WOMEN, AND 

OTHER THINGS. 

By Samuel Rockwell Reed, of the Cincinnati Commercial-Qazette. 12mo. 
Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. 

The following are some of the subjects discussed in this valuable Book of Essays, 
by one of the best writers in the country: ‘‘Love and Marriage,” ‘‘The I’aby and 
the Ballot,’* ‘‘ Scientific— Spots ou Domestic Animals,” ” The Married Man’s Liabili 
ties,” “ The Women’s Movement,” ‘‘How and When to Die,’ ‘‘Was the Creation a 
Failure?” “ Trial by Jury a Defeat of Justice,” ‘‘Fishing and Morals,” “ ihe Converted 
Friz >Figh ter.” 

THE CREED OF CHRISTENDOM. 

Its Foundations Contrasted with its Superstructure. By Wm. Rathbone 
Greg, author of “ Enigmas of Life,” “Literary and Social Judgments,” 
etc; 12mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

SOCIALISM AND UTILITARIANISM. 

By John Stuart Mill, author of “ Principles of Political Economy,” “ A 
System cf Logic,” etc., etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 

Reminiscences of a Veteran Conductor. By Charles B. George. Illus- 
trated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. Paper covers, 50c. 

“No railroad man in the West has had more active or eventful experiences in 
train WiQ.'''— Chicago Evening Journal, 

“ A very interesting hoo^."— Wisconsin. 

“ He tells it all in a very chatty, agreeable style. "—Official Railway Gu de. 

POLITICAL ORATORY OF EMERY A. STORRS, 

From Lincoln to Garfield. By Isaac B. Adams. 12mo. Cloth, gilt top, $1 25. 

These orations cover twenty of the most eventful years of the nation’s life, and are 
not only valuable for their matchless eloquence, but as a rich contribution to American 
history. They show the speaker to have had a masterly grasp of every subject he und- r- 
took to discuss. Every oration is rich in pointed illustration, full of important declaraMon 
of political principles, and sparkling throughout with genuine wit. It will be fou' d to be 
an invaluable aid to those who are called upon to deliver political addresses. Indeed, ro 
one can be thorouehly posted on the stirring political events of the last twenty years with- 
out reading Mr. Storr’s orations. 

POEMS OF PASSION. 

By Ella Wheeler, author of “ Maurine ” and other poems. (27lh edition.) 
The most salable Book of Poems published this century. Small 12mo. 
Red Cloth, $1.00. 

No book during the last ten years has created so genuine a sensation as “Poem^rf 
Passion.” It required no common courage to write so boldly and so plainly of the great 
passion of love. Apart from these distinctive poems, the volume is rich in exquisite strains 
that will insure Ella Wheeler a permanent place among American poets. 

THE CONFESSIONS OF A SOCIETY MAN. 

By Blanche Conscience. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25. Illustrated. 

“The Confessions of a Society Man” can hardly be called a book for young girls, 
though the publishers' prospectus declares it to be free of one immoral word. Also it is 
difficult to determine whether it is the work of a man or of a woman. Rumor has it that 
the author is a young lawyer, very prominent in the society of Philadelphia; at least, the 
scene is laid there at first, and later on vibrates between the Quaker City, New York, 
and the fashionable summer resorts. Whoever the author is he ahandons generalizations 
and confines himself strictly to facts. He goes into details with a calm composure which 
simply takes away one’s breath. . . . Born to good social position, wealthy, educated 

partially in Europe, good-looking, well-dressed, well-mannered, and utterly giv^m over 
to frivolities, he is the familiar type of the reckless man of society.”— Aew; York World. 

BELFOBD, CLARKE S CO., Publishers, 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO. 


BOOKS. 


THE POLITICS OF LABOR. 

By Phillips Thompson. 1 vol., 12aio. Cloth, $1.25. 

“ This book will mark dn epoch ia American thought. It is fully up with the times. 
* * * It is the prophet of the New Era .” — The People, E. L 

“ One of the most valuable works drawn out by current discussions on social and econ- 
omical questions, and one that is sure to take a high place in the permanent and standard 
literature of the times.— Opinion, Eockland. 

‘ This book is enlightening and inspiring; every thoughtful man and woman should 
read iV — Tribune, Junction City. 

“ Mr. Thompson presents the whole question of land and labor reform as clearly as 
could be desried. ’’—Jfaii, Chicago. 

BANCROFT’S HISTORY OP THE COLONIZATION 
OF THE UNITED STATES. 

By Georqe Bancroft, Two vols in one. 12iiio. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50. 

“ Since Ranke’s death George Bancroft is the greatest living historian. The American 
citizen who has not read his history of the United States is a poor patriot, or an unfortu- 
nately ignorant person. We fear there are too many of them, as there are of those woo 
have never even read the constitution of their country. It is not too late for these delin- 
quents to buy a copy of this great book, and learn something that will be of interest and 
profit the remainder of their lives.” - The Churchman. 


THE STORY OF MANON LESCAUT. 

Prom the French of L’A.bbe Prevost. A new translation, by Arthur W. 
Gundry, from the French edition of 1753, with over 200 full-page and 
other illustrations by the great French artist, Maurice Leloir, and others. 
Reproduced by photogravure, wood-engraving, and photo-engraving 
processes from the superb edition de luxe, published in Paris in 1885. 
4to. Cloth, extra gold and red, in a neat box, $3.00. [N. B.— The price 
of the French edition, with same engravings, is $20.] 

PAINTERS OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANOE. 

By Edith Healy. Illustrated by 25 original copperplate engravings of 
choice masterpieces of the leading Italian painters, executed in the high- 
est style of art by the famous French engraver, M. De Mare. Small 4to. 
Richly bound, extra cloth, gold title and ornamentation, $5.00. Full 
morocco, $4.00. Cloth, school edition, $1.25. 


WASHINGTON IRVING’S 

LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


3 vols., 12mo., cloth, $4.50 ; 3 vols., 12mo., half morocco, $9.00; 3 vols., 
12mo., half calf, $9.00. 

To speak at this latft day in praise of Irving’s ” Life of Washington ” would be like 
painting marble or gilding refined gold. No American library, public or private, is com- 
plete without this work. This is a new edition, printed from new plates, at a very mode- 

rate price. MISERABLES. 


By Victor Hugo. 1 vol., large 12mo., $1 50 \ the same on heavy paper in 3 
vols., 12mo., cloth, $4.50; 3 vols., 12tno., half morocco, $9.00 ; 3 vols., 
12mo., half calf, $9.00. Illustrated 

“ Les Miserables ” is universally admitted to be the great masterpiece of Victor Hugo, 
that brightest literary light of modern France. This book, once carefully read will never 
be forgotten. The study of it is an education. 

BELFOUDf CLARKE <€* CO., Publishers, 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO. 


JUVENILES. 


ONE SYLLABLE HISTORIES OF THE STATES. 


Histories of the States in Words of One Syllable. 
SPECIALLY DESIGNED FOR THE YOUNG. 


A HISTORY OF NEW ENGLAND 

In Words of One Syllable. By Mrs. H. N. Cady. Richly Illustrated. Illu- 
minated Board Cover. Boards, $1.00. Cloth, $1.50. 

A HISTORY OF NEW YORK 

In Words of One Syllable. By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. Richly Illustrated, f 
Illuminated Board Cover. Boards, $1.00. Cloth, $1.50. Jj 

A HISTORY OF ILLINOIS ■ 

In Words of One Syllable. By Thos. W. Handford. Richly Illustrated, 
Illuminated Board Cover. Boards, $1.00. Cloth, $1.50. 

A HISTORY OF OHIO 

In Words of One Syllable. By Mrs. H. N. Cady. Richly Illustrated. Illu- 
minated Board Cover. Boards, $1.00. Cloth, $1.50. 

WHAT JESUS SAID. 

The Words of the Lord Jesus, Expounded, Classified, and Arranged in Con- 
venient Positions Suitable for Committal to Memory. A Bonk Specially 
for the Little Ones. By Thomas W. Handford. With 20 Illustrations 
from Drawings by Gustave Dore. Illuminated Board Cover, 50 cents. 

POETRY AND PICTURES. 

Poems and Legends from the Old World and the New. For the Boys and 
Girls of America, Edited by Thomas W. Handford. Beautifully Illus- 
trated. Illuminated Board Cover. Price, 50 cents. 

ANIMALS AND BIRDS. 

Stories and Studies Concerning the Habits of Animals and Birds, Profusely 
Illustrated. Edited by Thomas W. Handford. Illuminated Board 
Cover. Price, 50 cents. 

CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Stories, Legends, and Poems of the Merry Christmas Tide. Christmas Games 
and Readings suitable for Chri.«!tmas Festivities. Book for the Young. 

By Thomas W. Handford. Fully Illustrated. Illuminated Board 
Cover. Price, 50 cents. 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

CHICAGO, NEW YORK, and SAN FRANCISCO. 


BELFORD’S MAGAZINE 

BONN PIATT, Editor. 

A COMPLETE COPYRIGHT NOVEL IN EACH NUMBER. 


More than two thousand newspapers have reviewed and com- 
mented favorably on the Magazine among them the following: 

“ Altogether the Magazine is full both of interest and promise.”— (7Aica<70 
Herald. 

“ If the Magazine contained nothing besides the 100 pages of Elizabeth W. Bel- 
lamy’s novel, ‘Old Man Gilbert,’ it would be worth more than its price. The story 
is of Florida life, and, in action, interest, humor, dialect, and portrayal of negro 
and Southern types, it deserves the highest rank among literary productions of the 
New South.”— Tribune. 

” Altogether the monthly seems likely to win very wide reading, and to deserve 
it quite as much as some more pretentious elder sisters.” — Chicago Times 

‘‘It is really a first-class publication both in matter and appearance.” — Chicago 
Journal. 

“ Belfo,rd’s Magazine offers in its first number * * * a long story or novel- 
ette by a Southern writer, Mrs. Bellamy. This story is really above the average of 
magazine fiction, and it is far from needing the fiattering letter with which the 
author of St. Elmo introduces it.”— iV. Y. Tribune. 

” Belpord's Magazine has been wise enough to select the keenest and most 
slashing writer at its command, Col. Bonn Piatt, to edit it and to contribute to its 
pages. * ♦ * Such Republican contributors as Coates Kinney, one of whose 
stirring lyrics is worth the price of an entire volume.” — Springfield Register. 

‘‘American magazine literature has been substantially enriched by the opening 
number of Belford’s new magazine.” — N. Y. Standard. 

‘‘The articles on tariff re'orm and wool are worth the close attention of every 
thinking man in the land.” — Chattanooga News. 

“ This magazine will certainly grow rapidly in public e&iQenx."— Richmond 
Times. 

” It is unique in containing more reading than advertising matter, a feature that 
some of its older contemporaries might emulate to their obvious advantage and 
improvement.” — Burlington HawJceye. 

“ It will attract attention by its strength and vigor, and independent treatment 
of the foremost political ionics."— Syracuse [N. Y.) Herald. 

“ The number befo’-e us gives unmistakable evidence that this new aspirant for 
public honors is to be essentially and distinctively American, unfettered by pre- 
judice, and one whose contents will be educative and intensely interesting, not 
only to those who cursorily glance over current monthlies, but to those who, read- 
ing from cover to cover, desire a magazine whose every article shall be thoroughly 
readable from a popular standpoint.”— Progressive Teacher. 

Belpord’s Monthly is a first-class medium for advertising, as the publishers 
guarantee a bona-fide circulation of at least 70,000 copies per month. 

Price, $2.50 a year, or 25 cents per number. 


BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., Publishers, 

Chicago* New York, and San Francisco, 


BELFORD’S 

MHGHZINE. 

DONN PIATT, Editor. 


Washing’ton, D. C. July 16, 1888. 


"We have examined BELFORDS MAGAZINE; find that in its 


political tone and contents it is distinctly and thoroughly demo- 
cratic; of high literary merit, and we take pleasure in commending 
it to all who want a fair, able and fearless exponent of sound 
principles, combined with the literature of a first-class Magazine. 


D. W. VOOKHEES, U. S. S. 
JAMES B. BECK, U. S. S. 

JOS. C. S. BLACKBURN, U. S. S. 
j. R. McPherson, u. s. s. 

JOHN W. DANIEL, U. S. S 
JOHN H. REAGAN, U. S. S. 

Z. B. VANCE, U. S, S. 

M. C. BUTLER, U. S. S. 

JAS. Z. GEORGE, U. S. S. 

WADE HAMPTON. U. S. S. 

0. R. BRECKINRIDGE. M. C. 

W. C. WHITTHORNE, M. C. 
THOMAS WILSON, M. C. 

JOS. WHEELER. M C. 
MELBOURNE H. FORD, M. C. 
GEORGE A. ANDERSON. M. C. 
THOMAS R. HUDD. M. C. 
BENTON McMILLIN, M. C. 
JAMES PHELAN, M. C. 

JOHN H. ROGERS. M. C 
T. M. NORWOOD. M. C. 

JAMES N. BURNS. M. C. 

HENRy GEORGE. 

Belford’s Monthly is a 


DON M. DICKINSON, P. M. Genl. 

A. E. S TEVENSON, Asst. P. M. G 
ELI SAULSBURY, U. S S. 

E. C. WALTHaLL, U. S. S. 

W. G. SUMNER, Professor, Yale Col. 
JAMES K. JONES, U. S. S. 

R. Q. MILLS, M. C. 

JAMES H. BERRY, U. S. S. 

JAMES L. PUGH. U. S. S. 

H B, PAYNE, U. S. S. 

C. C. MATSON, M. O. 

R. W. TOWNSHEND, M. C. 

J. H. OUTH WAITE, M. C. 

H. H. CARLTON, M. 0 

J. C. CLEMENS, M. C. 

B. P. SHIVELY, M. O. 

Wm. C. OATES, M. a 
W. J. STONE. M. C. 

P. T GLASS, M. C. 

C. T. O’PERRALL, M. C. 

P T. SHAW, M. C 

J R. WHITING, M. C. 

S. Z. LANDES, M. (! 

ALEX. M. DOCKERY. M. C. 

T. C. McRAE. M. C. 

JOHN E. HUTTON M. C. 

H W. RUSK, M C. 

THOMAS E. POWELL 


first-class medium for advertising, 
as the ptiblishers guarantee a bona-fide circulation of at least 70,000 
copies per month. 

Prices. !^'3.50 a year, or 25 cents p('r number. 


A. H. GARLAND, Attorney General. 
JOHN M. BLACK, Com. of Pensions. 


BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., Publishers. 

CHICAGO. NEW YORK, SAN FRANCISCO 





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